


Arc Two: The Resistance

by Drones_of_Innocence



Series: The Messenger [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Gen, Heaven, Hell, M/M, Other, Politics, Sweet Devil, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-12 11:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15338634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drones_of_Innocence/pseuds/Drones_of_Innocence
Summary: Arthur and his allies must unite against the forces of light and dark to put an end to a meaningless war, but in order to do that, Arthur must battle the darkness within himself first.





	1. Exo-Politics

O~o~O

“...S...Sir? Are you…?”

The question trailed off uselessly, engulfed in the silence. The room was dark, no longer alight with dancing magic. One thing was evident, the still silhouette of the Seraph, cold and unreacting.

Peeking in, the little angel gulped. “A-are you alright?” he tried again, attempting to keep his voice steady.

“I am…” the dull room suddenly lit up dimly with the clear, calm voice, vague blue and green lights pulsing. They portrayed two figures, a demon and an angel, and the light cast an ominous shadow over the Seraph’s face. His expression was unclear, but his voice was low and purring, like he was pleased. “I am doing very well.”

O~o~O

The gentle pattering of rain outside was soothing, creating a rare tranquil feeling throughout Hell. It beat gently upon the stone and the streets, trinkling down from the dark skies and prodding the walls, dripping from the structures. Not enough to erode, but enough to be known.

It must have been calming, for it was the reason a tired demon and a sleepy angel lay next to each other on a bed, one swathed in blankets and the other simply trying to offer his body warmth. It was a rare sight. The angel was curled up, looking peaceful and ethereal with his formerly bloodied tunic now a shade of off-white, compared to his clean, bright wings. The demon lay on his side, his body not quite up against the angel’s; he’d overheat if he did that. Instead, he rested his head on his arm, and his free hand remained on top of one of the angel’s wings. He’d fallen asleep while petting it.

A lot had been explained when they were awake. In fact, most of the time had been spent sitting comfortably on the bed, the demon listening while the angel explained himself as fully as he could. By the time he had worn himself out talking, the demon couldn’t think of any more questions and they both wanted to sleep on it. So, after washing up separately, and eating actual sustainable food(which the angel regarded with childlike wonder), they soon found themselves returning to the bed to get some rest.

By that point, it was well known that the angel had to sleep a lot longer than the demon. It had been a disappointment, because the demon had become fond of spending every waking moment with the angel. But he would learn to amuse himself in the six hours he had to wait, most likely to simply watch the other sleep judging by the look in his eyes at the time.

For then, at least, there was a while when both the light and the dark enjoyed a very deep, very long rest. A few hours longer than either of them were used to at that point, to say the least.

It must have been something very clear that had awoken the demon, as he was a light sleeper like all others of his kind. Perhaps it was a small growl of thunder despite the serenity of the storm? Or maybe he had just sensed the approaching presence.

Whatever the reason, the only thing Arthur processed was suddenly being shoved and tumbling off the bed gracelessly to the floor, with only a whisper-shout of “Get down!”

He landed hard, hitting his head and side on the ground. Biting his lip to keep from crying out in surprise, he dizzily raised his head to see the vague shadow on the floor of Alfred flying off the bed towards the balcony. Gritting his teeth and wincing, Arthur turned over on his stomach, initially in pain to face under the bed. Then, he noticed another pair of boots land, and he realised another demon had flown in.

“Basch!” he heard Alfred greet him nervously. “Hey, dude, uh...You need something?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid or not; surely after all of this Alfred wouldn’t suddenly decide to betray him? ‘No,’ he thought. ‘He just pushed me off to hide me.’ Regardless, he’d have to work on Alfred’s acting.

Noticing their shift, Arthur judged that Alfred had circled around the demon so Basch faced the side wall, not directly facing the bed. “Hello, Alfred.” Basch replied in an even voice, sounding skeptical. “I was just with the group...We’re becoming restless; neither you nor Paranomia have shown up for awhile and we don’t know what to do. I actually came here looking for Paranomia.”

It was obvious to Arthur when Alfred didn’t know what to say, and he rolled his eyes at the odd stuttering noise. He shifted on his back, inching a little ways under the bed just for a moment, quickly moving his hands.

“Ah- w-well, I-It’s really complicated, it-it’s like- Um...He’s, uh not…” Alfred began to babble aimlessly, not seeming able to form a coherent point. “Ar-Paranomia, he’s- he’s-”

“Right here.” Arthur answered, standing.

Managing to hold back a grin at the sheer horror in Alfred’s face, Arthur dusted his uniform off in a somewhat classy way and jumped, gliding over the bed to meet with Basch. “Sorry, I was busy writing something down. You said you were here to see me?” he asked, lying easily and feigning ignorance. He now appeared sharp, his green eyes focused and intense.

Basch looked glad to see him, even smiling a little. “Yes, the group has been confused and lost without you. Where have you been? No one was able to find you or Alfred. Then again, none of them thought to look here except me, but it still feels like you were being elusive. We’ve been searching for a long time, did something happen?” he seemed genuinely concerned.

Immediately, Arthur pretended to think, furrowing his brows and glancing at Alfred as if to confirm that no, in fact, nothing out of the ordinary happened. “Negative,” he answered, flicking his tail. “Alfred and I have just been taking some time to mellow out. We cannot do much yet, after all. We figured it would not hurt.” he flashed a grin to Alfred, and the demon smiled nervously back. “Is there anything that requires our immediate attention?”

“Ah, no…” Basch said, seeming to guess what Arthur was about to tell him, evident in how his eyebrows drew together and he frowned in disappointment. “We just...We thought you might know if there was anything we could do.”

Arthur crossed his arms. “I am afraid not. We are going to have to be smart about this, in fact, I am honestly dumbfounded that you lot still are with me. You have all put yourselves in danger for my sake, and I do not quite understand why.” he sighed, glancing around the room. “We are all very close to being fugitives. Are you certain you do not wish to just return to the Demonocracy?”

The shocked and aghast look Basch gave him startled Arthur. “Paranomia, we have all pledged our loyalty to you! We would not dream of turning our backs on you now.” he said in a hurried, insistent voice. “...Very well. If there’s nothing we can do yet, we will await your instruction. I’ll inform the others.” standing straight, Basch saluted Arthur. Upon getting the gesture returned, he turned and flew back out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Alfred let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Dude! Scared the Hell outta me…” he murmured, walking closer and twisting his tail with Arthur’s. “I think it’s gonna be a little while before I get used to you switching back and forth.” a small smile made its way on his face, while his eyes danced around Arthur’s face to absorb the change, the red hair, the horns and all.

“Mm.” Arthur hummed in acknowledgement, and seemed to remember something. He frowned, and cautiously reached into his jacket, pulling out the journal from his inside pocket. He looked at it for a moment, having forgotten about it. “And a good morning to you too.” he smiled wryly, handing the small book to Alfred.

Alfred accepted the book skeptically, and then laughed nervously. “Oh, haha, yea, sorry about that.” he brought his hand up to rub Arthur’s head, slower when the angel flinched a little. “I didn’t mean to be so rough, but I got kinda panicked.”

The smile became a little more genuine. “No, no, you saved my life. Thank you.” Arthur calmed down a little, working on making himself less fidgety around the demon. Leaning into the hand, he breathed out slowly and closed his eyes so Alfred knew it was okay to move closer. In a smooth instant, Alfred had pulled Arthur into an apologetic embrace, firmly wrapping his arms around Arthur. While it unnerved Arthur for a moment, he quickly relaxed and tilted his head to rest in the demon’s shoulder.

For a moment, the two were silent, simply enjoying one another’s company. But that didn’t last very long, because Alfred soon began giggling into Arthur’s shoulder.

“What? What are you laughing at?” Arthur leaned back, looking curiously at Alfred.

“N-nothing.” Alfred said quickly, but continued giggling. “S-sorry, I don’t really...I dunno, dude. It’s just funny! I got so w-worried when I heard someone coming th-that I shoved you off th-the bed!” at that point, he’d dissolved into laughter so he couldn’t explain anymore.

Despite the fact he didn’t exactly find the humour in it, Arthur found himself smiling. “Hnn.” he made a small noise of agreement, and took a step back over to the bed, trying to get Alfred to sit on it. “You are silly.” he smiled, glancing towards the window to make sure no one was around. Then, with a quick gesture of his hands and a luminescent glow of light, Arthur switched back into his angel form.

That abruptly caused the laughing to stop, and Arthur lowered his head sheepishly when Alfred instead looked at the angel with wonder in his eyes, like he was taking in a work of art. After the demon had sat down, Arthur joined him, grabbing the bomber jacket that had been lain on the bed in his place to put it on again. “Why is it always so bloody cold…” he muttered.

Alfred looked alarmed for a moment, and whipped his head around to look out at the balcony. “Blood? Where?” It took a moment, but he did eventually recognise it as a phrase. “Oh. Nevermind.” The sudden comprehension was amusing to Arthur. “So...You still gonna tell me about you and stuff? I mean, I don’t think there’ll ever be a point where I know everything, but still.”

“I suppose…” Arthur sighed, absentmindedly reaching up to rub his throat, and then to smooth his hair back. “What else would you like to know?” He closed his eyes briefly before turning his head, peering at Alfred once his eyes had focused.

Nodding, Alfred shifted up, and crawled a little closer to Arthur, carefully pressing up near him. Once he’d situated his arms around Arthur’s waist and leaned on him comfortably, Alfred looked up with smiling eyes. “How come angels don’t have uniforms?” he asked innocently.

Looking down with a relaxed expression, eased by the demon’s gentleness, Arthur’s eyebrows creased for a moment. “Does this not appear to be a uniform to you?” he asked, nodding to his tunic.

“Hmm, no...” Arthur shifted, not really uncomfortably but with an odd feeling, when Alfred’s blue eyes trailed from Arthur’s face down his neck, across his shoulder blades, his arms, and back up to the tip of his clavicle, and down to where the tunic rippled along his somewhat-concealed chest. “It isn’t...Practical…” he murmured thoughtfully. “A little...Revealing.”

That made Arthur let out an amused chuckle. “Practical? It is very practical, I should think. Angels do not have military bases or fights for practice; the training I had was very different than what you have here. Its purpose is to have the appearance of freedom and peace, and fit for the weather in Heaven. It is a lot warmer up there, after all.” Arthur explained. “Does...being so revealing...Make you uncomfortable?”

Alfred finally looked back up at Arthur’s face, fiddling with his tie. “Not...Really, I guess. It’s just new to me, that’s all. You’re very handsome and beautiful this way, and I like it.” he complimented without mind of how meaningful the words were to an angel. “I mean, I don’t think I’d be comfortable wearing that little cover. It suits you, though.”

For a moment, Arthur looked off to the side a bit bashfully. “Er, thank you, Alfred.” he answered, trying not to shift too much when Alfred moved to lay on his stomach, arms still looped around Arthur’s waist. “You would not like to be dressed this way? I am sure you would look very flattering.”

The demon made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat, and a blush creeping up in his pale cheeks suggested the mere thought bothered him. “Uh...H-hey, Artie, I can’t read this.” he had opened the journal Arthur had given him, and was attempting to read it across Arthur’s lap since his arms were still around the angel.

Arthur could easily see he was trying to change the subject, so he let Alfred, but he still mumbled “Demon’s modesty fascinates me sometimes…” loud enough for the demon to hear. “You do not have to be shy around me, you know that?” It was a rhetorical question, and he didn’t expect an answer, but he hoped Alfred understood that he meant it. Looking behind himself to the right, Arthur looked at the journal to see what couldn’t be read.

“Hmm…” Alfred opted to continue scrutinising the random page he’d turned to, looking at the drawings in particular. “This is yours? What language is it? Dude, you’re really good at drawing.”

Listening to Alfred talk for a moment, Arthur narrowed his eyes at the journal, trying to think of some form of magic he could use, perhaps a translating spell. Wordlessly, he lifted his hand, and his fingers danced in a complicated but deliberate and calculated way. Alfred fell silent to watch, as Arthur peered more closely at the book like he was focusing on something about it. Both his hand and the words on every page that had been written on began to glow, until Arthur suddenly dismissed it with a swish of his hand.

The glowing dimmed quickly, and with a curious look, Alfred looked at the journal again. “...I can read it now.” he noted, sounding surprised. “Wow. Angels really can do a lot of magic!” his broad smile came back, as if he had never been anything but happy. “What else can you do? Can you, like, make stuff disappear? Can every angel do that much magic?” With every question, he’d scooted up eagerly closer to Arthur, until Arthur had no choice but to lean back a little.

“Er, well, magic is usually something that requires training.” Arthur explained awkwardly, surprising himself when he realised he found the demon’s fascination quite cute. “Only a few angels are well versed like me, but that was because I spent a lot of my alone time reading and teaching myself. I think that was part of the reason they kicked me out, maybe because they thought it being ‘too clever?’ I do not know, but it really was not clever.”

Alfred tilted his head. “You taught yourself? I thought angels liked to be together and teach each other.”

With a nod, Arthur confirmed it, but made a face like there were special cases. “Yes. They do. It just...Was not fast enough for me, I suppose.” he admitted thoughtfully. “I wanted to know everything, and the process by which the higher ranked angels taught the younger ones like me went too slowly. I got bored, which is an emotion I learned about early on because of it. At first, the archangels encouraged me learning by myself, but later on, they started to confuse me because they told me I should start spending more time with other angels and not as much reading.” his eyebrows creased a little and his head lowered, as if he were just realising how sad it had made him.

“Wait wait wait, slow down. You have to learn about emotions? Why would they tell you to stop learning, what were they afraid you’d become too powerful?” Alfred laughed at first, but the amusement faded and his eyes widened after a few moments when the realisation dawned on him. “...Oh. That’s why they...Oh.” his voice got a lot softer once he noticed Arthur’s dark expression.. “I’m so sorry, Arthur…”

He shook his head. “No, no, it is alright. Yes, angels have to learn about emotions, and it is a slowly progressing sort of thing that I never completed. I do not know why they did not just let us feel for ourselves to experience it...Unless…” he trailed off. “Well, unless they wanted to control what we felt. Er, anyway, I suppose that is why I was the one ‘chosen.’ It would make sense.”

Alfred nodded when Arthur was finished, and adjusted himself more comfortably before his eyes flickered down to the journal. Arthur was glad for the silence; it gave him room to process what he’d just realised about Heaven, how corrupted it was. It was a perfect sort of corruption, giving off the impression of grace even to its enemies, and at the same time twisting the minds of all involved in it, to the point where even the highest authority could be manipulated without noticing it at all. The Angelicans had taught him what to do, what to think, what to feel, leaving no space for any individual motives or emotions. It was so perfect in fact, that he’d been fooled up until this point.

Looking upwards dejectedly, Arthur let out a deep, sad sigh. This was why he couldn’t be a part of either power, the Demonocrats or the Angelicans. It would be like choosing the lesser of two evils. There was no good, there was only bad. One was gradually using more and more control over its inhabitants to tell them what to do while they were blissfully ignorant to the crimes done to them. Arthur’s memory could not go back to a time when things had been better, except for when he too was ignorant. But in the history books he read, portraying those decades and centuries in the past that were condemned, now looked brighter and more free.

The other was carelessly forcing its inhabitants to fight for an unknown, yet patriotic cause. A society of hatred, with absolutely no pretense as to what good was, only that victory would be the outcome. Demons appeared to have horribly pessimistic attitudes despite never opposing the government, always thinking of the worst. In Alfred’s case, it was more of a sad, apologetic acceptance that he would die a horrible death, and that had only started to change.

Arthur glanced down at Alfred. He was resting his head against Arthur’s side, reading the journal with it held up in one hand so he could see over Arthur’s arm. The side of his horn pressed in Arthur’s ribcage, but it wasn’t painful, and even if it did hurt, Arthur didn’t think he would want him to move anyway. He found it odd; Arthur was still shaky and unsure of how much he trusted Alfred, but at the same time, he liked being close to the demon. The reverse also looked to be true, because Alfred may be extremely modest and shy about such closeness, but he never seemed to mind being intimate with Arthur. With a warm smile, Arthur lifted his free hand and combed his fingers gently through Alfred’s black hair.

For a moment, Alfred closed his eyes, as if he appreciated the feeling, before he returned to the reading and wrapped his other arm a little tighter around Arthur. “Hell, Arthur…” he mumbled after a moment, flicking back a few pages and brushing his gloved thumb across the very obvious blood stains he found. “You’ve probably felt so lonely.”

He seemed to have finished Zadkiel’s note, which was the most recent entry, and looked up at Arthur’s confused expression. He blinked a couple of times, before his brows lowered and he pouted. “You taught yourself stuff in Heaven, and that must have taken a lot of time. You were by yourself a lot, right?” At Arthur’s hesitant nod, he continued. “Well, once you got sent down here, there was literally no one to help you. You had to fend for yourself, and I can’t even imagine...I can’t even imagine what that’s been like for you!”

Alfred abruptly started moving, shifting up on his knees yet still keeping close to Arthur. Once he’d turned and sat down properly, he opened the book to one of the first few pages and pointed at a couple lines. “You just wrote down a lot of facts, and sometimes how you learned them. You were teaching yourself about demons through experience, which was something you just told me wasn’t the way you were used to. You used to be able to just read everything, right? And suddenly you don’t know how to do anything or if you’ll live long enough to learn…” Alfred turned a couple pages, until he found a page where Arthur had reserved just for expressing his misery. “Look here, you wrote ‘I do not know how I have survived this long. Is it chance? Luck? I do not think I can go on fighting like this, everything is a constant fight for demons, especially for life itself. I have become more adept here, but I do not think I will make it for long. My mission is becoming more and more hopeless with each day.’ You were just so alone, and...Hell.”

The next thing Arthur knew, he was being smothered in a hug, the journal set down on the bed so Alfred could pull Arthur towards him. “Wh-A-Alfred-?”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that.” Alfred said in a muffled voice. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, you know? I understand things now. Like why you didn’t want to stay here before I knew you were an angel. But I know now, and I mean...We’re still kinda working on it, but you can trust me. I know I trust you, because as far as I know, you only lied about one thing. Everything else I know about you is the same, you’re still a frickin’ tough dude that sees everything for what it really is. And you’ve made others see too. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re an angel, you’re still Arthur. Maybe if we get this whole rebellion going, the others might understand too. It’s too dangerous right now, but maybe one day we can make them see that it doesn’t matter. Angels, demons...What’s the difference, really?” he laughed a little sadly.

Arthur had been slow to comprehend what had happened, but once Alfred had started laughing, he shifted his face into Alfred’s shoulder and hugged him back. “...I will stay here.” he said softly. “Yes, I was lonely, but I...I have never known anything else.”

In return, the demon made an odd sort of moaning noise, somehow nuzzling closer. “You’ll be safer here. You won’t have to feel lonely, or be so scared. You don’t have to fight for your life all the time, I have your back now. Okay?” his tail wound around Arthur as well, so determined to hold him close. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you.”

For a reason he wasn’t able to understand, Alfred just saying that soothed Arthur immensely. Almost to a point where he wanted to tell Alfred he trusted him again, though he knew that wasn’t true quite yet. But he felt...He felt those emotions he could not put a word to, those feelings not yet taught to him. They were good feelings, though. That’s what he concluded, seeing as he felt content enough to relax into the tight embrace.

“Alfred…” he began after a moment of sitting in silence. “You act so shy and uncomfortable around me sometimes, yet you seem to enjoy hugging me at random.” he commented quietly, noting that he was being held very protectively and firmly.

He couldn’t see the demon’s face, but with the slight shift, he could guess Alfred was blushing again. “You wrote in your journal about modesty, and how angels didn’t act like that. It’s with most demons, we don’t like to wear anything other than long sleeves and stuff and showing skin is just kinda weird.” he explained. Then, in a softer, meeker tone, he added “I don’t know why, but I like to hold you.”

At that, Alfred lowered his head so Arthur couldn’t see his face. Not like he could anyway, but it was endearing just the same. Arthur found himself unable to stop smiling. In his eyes, it was so sweet that a creature of such a reserved, curiously kind nature would like him enough to admit that.

They spent most of their day that way. They talked, told stories, tried to remember the happier parts of their lives, and remained close to one another the entire time. Arthur would never admit it out loud, but he thought he could feel something he had never felt before, something fond and warm. It was very nice, and a good way to distance himself from the anger and sadness he’d felt before. He couldn’t define it, but something in his gut told him he would never be able to let Alfred go.

Alfred acted all sorts of considerate and gentle, as if the smallest stroke would harm Arthur. Almost with reverence, he held Arthur close, determined to renew their earlier friendship. It was going to be a long process, but for once, Arthur felt he could actually rely on someone.

He was also free to express all the concerns that had built up ever since he landed in Hell. Alfred didn’t quite understand all of them, but he listened and agreed with or corrected Arthur about what he could. It was mostly things about continuing to play along like he still had a mission, or staying out of the way of the Demonocracy until there was a point when they could make a move. Arthur also asked a lot of questions, worried that Alfred wouldn’t find it as easy to free his mind from the trap they had both become a part of. However, Alfred’s answers assured him that the demon could see the conspiracies and lies now.

“...It’s like...Having all the secrets from centuries past even back to the Flame...Loaded on my back...And it weighs me down…But we have to wait, we have to wait for a sign, you know, a sign that we can do something. I am not sure what yet, but I will think of something…” Arthur mumbled, and then covered his mouth and yawned sleepily, but continued talking. “I will think of...Some move we could make, but we have to be patient...The Angelicans and the Demonocrats have this vast system built up respectively that relies on conquering our...our minds...But we can...We can fight it....”

It was late now; Arthur was beginning to trail off tiredly. Alfred was as wide awake as ever, and listened intently. But he seemed to know better than Arthur that the angel needed to sleep. He lay on his side right next to Arthur, calmly stroking his hair. “Yea?” he asked softly, unaware that his tone was very soothing to a sleepy angel. “Who do you think we should start with?”

Arthur thought for a moment, not even noticing how he was unconsciously working on snuggling into the jacket, the blankets, and of course Alfred himself. ‘“We could start...Start with the Demonocracy...We are already down here anyway…” he reasoned, his eyelids beginning to droop.

“Mmhm…” Alfred hummed in agreement, pulling Arthur closer to make it easier for the angel nestling into him. “Well, before we go trying to dismantle the government, I think Mr. Conspiracy Exposer needs some sleep.”

“Nonsense, I can...I can stay awake, we could find the...The group and tell the lot of them about...About how we are going...To...Dismantle…” Arthur’s voice faded off, getting quieter and quieter.

Alfred let out a soft laugh. “A huh, sure, Artie. Let’s go tell them right now.” he slowly shifted one arm underneath Arthur’s head and let the other one rest over the angel’s suddenly small body. Arthur felt surrounded by warmth, and it was very nice.

“Okay...We can...Let us...Go...Find…” his voice became barely audible, as he was now talking aimlessly into Alfred’s uniform.

Finally, he relaxed completely, his eyes shutting and his body easing. His breathing became long and steady, and judging by Alfred’s stillness, Arthur assumed the demon thought he’d just fallen asleep. After a couple of moments, Alfred shifted ever-so-carefully to press his nose in Arthur’s hair. He managed to avoid his halo that time, and Arthur also felt Alfred’s tail securely wrap around his waist again.

“...Alfred?” he asked quietly, startling the demon.

“Ah-yea?” Alfred answered, stiffening like he was expecting to be told to release Arthur.

For a moment, Arthur was just quiet, until he moved himself even closer to the demon. “...I like to be held.” he finally said, like he was answering Alfred’s confession from earlier. “I feel safe. Thank you.”

That was all the demon needed to hear to relax himself and hold Arthur with just as much firmness as before.

O~o~O

Heaven was a disaster.

Everywhere Feliciano and Francis looked, Camael’s preaching denouncing Arthur’s efforts were becoming convincing to the angels not involved in the Angelican Party, and the Seraph gradually earned more and more support and belief. Angels of all ranks began to resent Arthur, albeit in a gentle way, but it was still the entirety of Heaven being turned against their only chance.

“The plan has been...Diverted,” Camael had told Feliciano after the fact, once he’d calmed down. “Diversion is only a small delay. Like I have said, there is no way Arthur can possibly get in the way of anything. This is the most he can do, prolong the inevitable.”

Forced to be his only confidant, Feliciano swallowed thickly and nodded to play along. “It would be impossible, sir.” he agreed in a weak voice.

So far, his only consolation had been this ‘diversion,’ as Camael put it. Initially, he’d nearly broken down completely in front of the Seraph while he watched the demon’s Rage resurface, and had to leave. He just couldn’t be the witness of Arthur’s death. However, upon getting called back into the spherical chamber, he almost cried out in sheer joy when he discovered he was still alive, while Camael was shaking in anger. Arthur had been right to trust the demon!

Camael had even gotten furious enough to storm out more than a few times. Each time he did, Feliciano could let down his apathetic front and watch Arthur alone, smiling at this demon called Alfred. He seemed very gentle, and accepting as well. After listening in on their conversations, Feliciano learned of Alfred’s usual nature, and how Rage was just a deficiency, a mental condition. He watched with wide, fascinated eyes at how tenderly Alfred held Arthur, how gently he touched him, and how patiently he helped Arthur gradually get used to him again. He never imagined demons could be so kind, and suddenly he felt himself craving similar intimacy; Arthur’s reaction to it was evidence of how long he’d gone without it.

Luckily, Francis was off duty by the time Camael dismissed Feliciano, and had the rest of the day to sit with the Principality and listen to what he’d seen. Arthur’s recent experiences brought hope to Francis, and he even felt kind enough to let Feliciano demonstrate how gentle the demon had been, and they cuddled together until it was time to sleep. Truly, they were the only ones who they could rely on. They couldn’t tell anyone now that they opposed Camael.

Once Feliciano had fallen asleep, Francis found himself restless, and he stayed up, stroking the Principality’s ginger hair and watching the sky with sad eyes. They were unable to do literally anything. Contacting Arthur couldn’t be done without suspicion anymore, and flying down to Hell put them at risk of becoming a Drone like Zadkiel. By this point, quite a few angels had been turned into mindless machines, even when they hadn’t done anything. According to Camael, they were the ones who he deemed “potentially dangerous.”

They had to wait, and it pained Francis, because he knew that the only time they could actually begin trying to find ways to talk to Arthur was after the war began. Not the petty one that had been continually going all along, but the big, ultimate one that promised destruction. Camael was preparing for the war with these Drones, and he wasn’t sure, but Francis thought he was beginning to get more ideas from humans. The periods of time that Camael left for Earth were worrying, and Francis could only pray that he wasn’t sitting in with the War Hawks of the human race.

Since when did the angels become bad?

It took an entire sleepless day for Francis to come to the same realisation that Arthur did; Heaven had never been good. It had just all been an illusion, and the lies were disguised by a subliminal, deceiving face of purity. And they couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Realising it was a big step, though, and perhaps he could get others to see. Or maybe they just had to wait for Arthur to do something. Either way, they were a small step further than they had been now.

The trick now was to find out who all stood behind this. Obviously it was Camael, but were there others? Others who managed to fool the Angels for centuries without question until now? Francis decided his best option was to keep pretending he was with the Angelicans, while doing his best to find out how many were involved in turning around the direction of the Party and tainting all the Angel’s ideals. Francis couldn’t stand to let this corruption go without doing something.

O~o~O

Arthur’s return to the group was very well received. At least, for everyone else.

He had become stronger over the past couple of days, no longer thin and weak like he had been. Living with Alfred had returned some of his skin colour, his muscle, and sleek form. Alfred had even said he looked a lot healthier than he’d ever seen him, which was encouraging.

Before they flew from Alfred’s place to find the group, Alfred had given him a few pointers on how to come across as more assertive, though Arthur wasn’t the assertive type. He explained that dominance and leadership was not only something that demons responded to better, it was a display of confidence, and that Arthur just had to “fake it ‘til he made it.” Alfred looked a little dumbfounded when he found out whatever assertiveness Arthur appeared to have before was purely accidental.

Regardless, Arthur was a quick learner, and would do whatever he had to to assure the support he had. So, with no more time to waste, Arthur transformed into his demon form and took off with Alfred, heading for the alley he used to live in.

Once the demons heard him coming, which was from quite aways away, Alfred started grinning. “I can hear them.” he said, laughing.

“You can?” Arthur frowned, only then remembering that demons had a better sense of hearing and smelling than he did.

Alfred tilted his wings so he could fly closer and nudge him. “They’re whispering excitedly, they can smell us coming.”

Arthur assumed that was why he was greeted with demons all standing and facing the direction he and Alfred flew in at, all breaking out into grins and slightly louder conversations. “Paranomia has returned!” he heard some of them say. He could see Basch grinning at him, and even Ivan looked like he was at least a little bit glad to see him.

As soon as he landed, Arthur stood with his back straight and shoulders back, raising his chin to look at everyone. For some reason, there looked like there were more demons than when he last saw the group. As if to confirm it, Alfred landed next to him and leaned to mutter in his ear, “I think there’s some more people here. More than there were before, anyway. I guess we got some recruits or something while we were out?”

“Paranomia, it is good to see you again.” Ivan came forward with Basch to approach him. “We have been waiting for you. We’d like to fill you in on a few things.” Ivan said, though they both looked like they had a hint of nervousness, like they had done something wrong. Or maybe Alfred’s suggestion was working; perhaps he was intimidating them. “We have found a few fellow demons who wish to commit Opia with you and join us in our endeavors to defy the Demonocracy. I thought it would be for the best, even though you weren’t around…”

Ivan was acting like he’d challenged Arthur’s authority, and it seemed a very dangerous thing to do, which would explain his apparent anxiety. Alfred even pulled in a breath behind him, and Arthur guessed he was surprised that they had been so bold. However, their entire group was a reform of everything any of them had ever known, so it was not a matter of leadership to Arthur.

“Really?” he asked pleasantly. “Well, that is certainly convenient. Thank you, Ivan, thank you, Basch. It is good to have as many on our side as we can get.” he had trouble holding back a grin at their dumbfounded faces.

He’d thoroughly confused them, and he hoped to confuse them even more. “Listen up!” he raised his voice to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “Starting from here, it will be made clear that the Demonocracy has wronged us all!” he announced. “They have lied to us, they have treated us like we are nothing! But no longer!”

That earned a few tentative murmurs, and Arthur raised his wings to fly to the crate he used to sleep on. “They do not even care for our lives, we are expendable! Would you fight for an army that would not even miss you when you are dead and gone, soul lost forever?! Will you slam shut, or will you free your mind?! Or will you stay hypnotised, and fight blindly and rashly without regard for who lives and who dies?!” By then, every single demon had visible shrunken, shocked by the sheer power in his voice. He could see Alfred out of the corner of his eye, and unlike most everyone else, the demon’s eyes were shining in admiration. “When the angels fill the skies, will our ‘leaders’ tell us why?! They only tell us what to do, nothing more!” he paused to let them take it in.

They let out growls of what he hoped were approval, and he took that as encouragement. “We will wait. We will wait for our sign, and we’ll know when it’s time to make our move. But for now we must stay hidden so they will not see us coming.” he told them, and the growls escalated to a brief collective shout.

They no longer looked afraid, instead they all stood with him, stood for him.

This was his army.

O~o~O

“Oh, but it’s so much more than that, little Arthur…” the Seraph crooned, smiling as he twirled the image, making the magical projection of Arthur have little swirls in it.

He couldn’t see it all yet. With every day he got a bigger and bigger picture, but Paranomia didn’t know everything just yet. He chuckled darkly in amusement.

“When the angels fill the skies,” he purred. “It’s just your leaders in disguise.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I don't have any idea how I wrote out this chapter so fast XD But oh my stars I'm so excited to have it done that I might try a timezone reblog about it on Tumblr because I'm publishing it so late XD Late for me, anyway, I am but a tired noodle who just wants to start a Resistance against two governments I made up :P Muse has taught me well XD
> 
> So originally this chapter was going to go in a different direction, but it just? Idk, I'm not sure if it was good or not. Like I'm genuinely not sure if this was a good first step in this next arc, but I'm hoping I have the right idea XD I mean, it's all planned out, but I might have taken an early and blind step into it :P
> 
> Exo-Politics was interesting to use, because the lyrics are about questioning the value of remaining with the government or standing against it. In the chapter, I used the idea of the lyrics in a mixed up order, like "Carried through the centuries, secrets locked up, and loaded on my back, and it weighs me down..." and "When the Zetas fill the skies, will our leaders tell us why?"
> 
> Interestingly enough(or well interesting to me anyways, not sure about you XD), the lyrics talk about Zetas filling the skies, which everyone just kinda assumes has to do with aliens because Muse loves to talk about aliens. In one or more particular performance(s?) Bellamy changed the lyrics to "When the Demons fill the skies..." which I actually did not know until after I had already planned on using this song XD I decided to play off of it, and changed it to "When the Angels fill the skies..." ;)
> 
> I love this song. Like, this guitar solo, the album it's from(Black Holes and Revelations), and the tone just perfectly reflects the skepticism and patience and determination Arthur has. Basically, I just love Muse XD
> 
> Heaven is a mess...:P
> 
> So! Heyyy, since I'm back to regular chapters now, I'll get on with the usual stuff~
> 
> Disclaimer** I don't own Muse, Linkin Park, angels, demons, zetas, or bible stuff :D
> 
> Makoyana is the artist for the cover image! (Sorry girl I'm gonna tag you in every chapter from here on out XD Regardless of whether or not you actually see this :P)
> 
> I got a lot of really nice reviews recently and my heart has just been so overwhelmed XD Like I am still shocked you actually like this! A lot of good things have been happening and it's just in general so nice :D I love you so much oh my stars someday I'll get around to addressing you individually to thank you XD
> 
> I'm gonna try to make Messenger a thing on Tumblr, actually! :D Someday also when I get some technological skills, I might even make a Messenger ask blog, or just a blog dedicated to Messenger and the sweet devil au. Or maybe just author stuff. Who knows? XD
> 
> Thank you for reading! :D
> 
> ~Madz


	2. No More Sorrow

O~o~O

Arthur stumbled upon something strange the next time he headed to meet with the group.

There were...Rhythms and beats, the sound of thumping and striking but all in a very coordinated way. Initially, it sounded alarming, and Arthur wanted to rush in to see what the commotion was. But, after a moment of listening, it sounded very put together, with evident arrangement and conduct.

After he slowed up, Alfred glanced back at him, noticing his confused expression like he was trying to decipher all the different sounds all at once. “What’s up, Artie?” he backed up, evening with Arthur and hovering above the ground.

His brows were creased in heavy thought, but no matter how Arthur tried, it all got jumbled up and confused, lost to his mind. How could something so complicated have so much coordination?

“What…” he couldn’t quite focus with all the different beats distracting him. “What is that?”

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Alfred. He shrugged. “Dunno, what are you talking about?” then, he noticed how Arthur reacted to the change in tempo of the drumming noises ahead, and he mouthed a short ‘oh.’ “You don’t know what Beating is?”

Arthur was looking towards the noises with an expression like he was caught in a state of paralysis. He would open his mouth to say something, only to lose track of his thoughts when the noises changed and danced around each other, and then he’d twitch or shake his head a little bit. It was moving too fast for him to comprehend it all at once. “N...uh...No.”

Alfred nodded slowly, as if he was putting things together in his head. Apparently, something made sense now. “Ohh...Well Beating is...It’s kinda like how you said angels like to sing? Demons like to do this instead, I guess it’s our version of a recreational activity? I mean, that’s how you put it. I dunno, dude. Anyway, we just really like counting to beats, banging on stuff, and seeing what kind of rhythms we can make.” he started laughing as he was talking, because he was watching Arthur physically react like the beats genuinely bothered him. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“I can’t...I can’t…” Arthur had heard Alfred, but he was still set on trying to listen to the Beating. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward a little, starting to get frustrated that he couldn’t single out one sound. “Too...Complex, I can’t...Distinguish…”

It seemed so funny to Alfred, as he kept laughing, too hard to talk for a moment. “C-c’mon, it’s hard at first to learn, but it’ll be easier when you can actually see them.” he touched Arthur’s shoulder to lead him forward, and they started flying forward again. “Maybe the others will be occupied with teaching you instead of asking what we’re gonna do. It’ll be fun!”

Arthur hesitated before he followed Alfred. “If you- if you say so.” he muttered, shaking his head rapidly again.

Just before they rounded the corner to the group, Alfred glanced one last time at Arthur, who was still caught up in his confusion.Alfred gave him a sort of look that appeared he would rather like to reach over to ruffle Arthur’s hair, and it was an affectionate gaze that would have calmed Arthur if he were able to pay attention to him. His mind was just too tangled up in the different sounds to acknowledge it.

Finally, they flew it, and the scene Arthur came upon was quite stunning.

As he and Alfred glided to a landing, Arthur looked around at the demons, some of them sitting and striking the crates and barrels, others keeping time on the stone walls and stomping on the ground. It was intense, all of them observing one another for changes to match, and all of them also smiling like it was a thrilling game.

Oh, it was so much more than that.

It was fun. It was genuinely fun, Arthur could see it in their crooked grins and fluid movements that sometimes got a little too excited and came in too early. This was a competition, and the ones who got off time were the ones who tossed their heads back in defeated laughter and let the remaining players have at one another.

Watching with wonder, Arthur noticed it was between several demons still, and he could finally focus on the singular sounds. Once he looked at a demon, he could watch their hands and identify their sound out of all the chaotic harmony. Ivan was still in it, as was Ludwig, and Basch was watching him with a growing smile.

“You get it now?” Alfred leaned towards Arthur to ask him, giggling when he saw one of the demons strike poorly off-beat and let out a pretend miserable cry. “It sounds kind of loud, right? On different surfaces, different strikes make different sounds. That’s why the ones on the walls and ground are stomping or slapping with their flat hands, and the ones on the crates are using their fists.” he explained.

Arthur nodded and turned a little towards Alfred so they could hear each other better. “Is it always in the form of a game?” he asked, his eyes flickering briefly up at Alfred before returning to the game, trying to guess who was going to slip up next.

Tilting his head thoughtfully in both directions, Alfred shrugged. “Not always. Usually, but sometimes we just like to, uh...I don’t really know the word for it. Where we just do it all together for a while ‘cause it’s fun.”

“Sometimes you just like to jam?” Arthur supplied, his lips curling into a slight smirk of amusement. “That is what the humans call it.”

Letting out a snort and slightly louder laughter, Alfred nodded. “Yea, that.” Then, he looked at Arthur with wide eyes, remembering something. “Oh, yea, dude. Blend your words more. You’ve gotten used to talking like an angel, you gotta ease back into saying stuff all together.”

With a surprised look at himself, Arthur glanced down, and then back up at Alfred. “Oh. I did n...Didn’t even notice I was doing that. Thank you. I’ll remember that; merge more, enunciate less.”

“Ooh, big words,” Alfred giggled, and nudged the angel when he got a light, teasing smack from Arthur.

Just then, Arthur and Alfred both looked over when a loud chorus of shouts came from the demons, and the Beating stopped. Arthur looked on curiously, while Alfred laughed, knowing exactly what had happened. Some of the demons were making deep, throaty noises at Ivan, and it sounded like a defeated groan. The others were yelling with Ludwig, who’d bared his teeth and spread his wings in a show of victory.

Ivan rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You may have won this time, but next time you won’t find it so easy.” his words were tough, but his smile was good-natured, indicating that he was joking. All in good fun, Arthur supposed. Unable to hide his own smile, he observed the group of demons dance around and play like children.

This was truly the side of his army he liked to see.

Once his presence had been noticed, the demons invited him closer gladly, and he began to appreciate this unfamiliar intimate side of the demons. He’d never seen it when he was on his own, but this group that had come to respect him seemed comfortable to show it.

He started to learn of the Beatings, once he’d confessed he didn’t know what they were or how to Beat. Before all this, he guessed, it would have made them all a little more suspicious of him. But a strange understanding came over them, as well as a sort of pity that he didn’t know how to have their kind of fun. They taught him in a manner that he’d never had the privilege to experience before.

Patience, and relaxation. Alfred sat with him as he experimented with a few different beats, and learnt to keep time. All of the demons around him formed a circle, so they could all see one another, and they encouraged him with such a genuine kindness that Arthur could have easily mistaken them for angels were it a different game. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and started to become more adept at hearing the changes and improvisations in the beat.

Alfred had been right, he’d realised. This was a form of bonding, almost exactly like the songs the angels sang except in the form of drumming instead of words. It was equally expressive, and, if Arthur would dare say, it was also more fun.

Over time, the demons seemed to forget about the Demonocracy. No one asked Arthur when they would make their move, or imply that he needed to be more urgent anymore. It also made Arthur happy because these demons were free from any sort of oppression or responsibility, and it allowed them to feel comfortable enough around him to be who they really were.

“You learn really fast,” Alfred commented when Arthur had managed to pull off an odd rhythm that reconciled itself about four measures after, earning ‘ooh’s of awe from the demons. He was right; Arthur had mastered using his hands, using other materials, and even coming up with some of his own. His preferred style was to improvise, finding the oddest things to make a beat out of. It went from pebbles, a broomstick, and once he even found a plastic bag, and always, he could find new rhythms and tempos.

He supposed it was because the culture he was raised in influenced how he learned this new one. It seemed to be well taken, too.

“Paranomia, where did you learn such a style?” one of the demons asked him, after they had finished a long, thrilling ‘jam session.’

After setting down the lid of a metal can he’d used, Arthur looked at her with a thoughtful expression. “...I am...I’m not sure. This does not come as naturally as it could, but I suppose it’s because I’m used to word rhythms, not sound rhythms.” he glanced at Alfred as he said this, hoping it wasn’t enough to arouse too much curiosity from the others.

The demon sat up a little straighter, her interest piqued. “Words?” she asked incredulously. “What do you mean?”

By now, the other demons were under the impression that Arthur had come from a deeper level of Hell than they had, which was why his mannerisms and personality were so different from theirs. Ivan had even told him that it was probably why the Demonocracy had gotten so wound up about him in the first place. “Well, words that tell stories. A game I used to play was to make up fantastical tales of myths and legends, and tell them dramatically, like a narrative, if you will.” he told them, shrugging.

It wasn’t exactly a lie; angels did tell stories, but mostly while singing, not just talking. He remembered some of the odd stories he’d come up with, and of course, the ones passed down from centuries of retelling. They were beautiful tales of heroism and history, and Arthur would love to demonstrate, only, he couldn’t really sing for the demons. Not when his true self was still a secret to them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alfred glance up at him nervously. Alfred knew what he was referring to, Arthur had told him this particular bit about angels. He nodded to the demon with a slight smile to indicate it was alright.

Perhaps he could improvise, as he had done with the Beatings. Oddly enough, when he made some of the rhythms, sometimes in his head he’d imagine words that had as many syllables as there were beats. It wouldn’t be too hard, he’d just have to be careful, and try his best to not add tone to it.

A few demons shifted a little bit closer and looked up at him with eager expressions. “Can you show us?” Basch asked, his eyes wide. “What sort of stories can you speak of?”

With a vaguely amused smile, Arthur nodded to them. “Of course I can. Just give me a rhythm, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Almost in an excited and frenzied rush, the group of demons looked at one another and started thumping randomly before the sounds all organised, becoming a simple sort of rhythm. Once it they had fixed up the tempo, they turned to look back at Arthur, who was struggling for words.

What could he say? What sort of poetry did this beat sound like it posessed? It was confusing for a moment before words began to organise themselves on the tip of his tongue, as the long practices in Heaven had taught him to do. Hours of songs and harps and voices and peaceful, ambient noises had formed him, making him the artist that all angels were, really. Opening his mouth with a small smile, he spoke in time with the beat.

“Where I come from is not who I am, it's not the roots of my name, I'm not a ram. Pause a moment to contemplate my fame, I'm not a dame, I'm not insane, I'm in...pain…” Almost automatically, Arthur hesitated with the beat when the demons briefly paused, following them closely. They looked confused, so he tried to nod to them to indicate they could keep going. And when he did, it all started to come together. “I look to the sky, it's part of who I am, but what am I? All demons lie, but so do I...I may kite from place to place, but I am not commonplace. Just because there’s a difference in our race doesn't mean I want you wiped off of this face.”

The others became a little more excitable when they picked up on the word rhythms that Arthur had mentioned earlier. The beat became more complex with Arthur’s story, and Arthur easily kept it going with just as much enthusiasm. “I watched and played as millions of yours died in the shade, they had a big parade...They marched through the streets, scepters in hand, on the land I watched as they salted your graves, I was naïve then...When, when, when…

“Do you ever wonder what goes down, down-under, land full of thunder, one blunder, boom, there goes, your life gone? No one knows…” Arthur glanced at Alfred, noticing that he had joined in on the Beating with a little hesitance; he could understand some what Arthur was saying, though to the others, it simply sounded like poetic nonsense like it would to a child who didn’t understand the concept of darkness. Only this was simply a consequence of the demons not knowing who Arthur really was. “O the woes of your countrymen as all of them fell. Well, I guess this is a daemon's hell. So you can all whine, but understand I am not of this time.”

O~o~O

He remembered...Remembered so clearly when he looked into the face of a kind death, with soft words and a hard gaze. He had found himself drawn to this creature, this new specimen, who could not possibly be from around this horrid place. Shrouded in so much mystery, this man had followers coming to him like moths to a flame, that flame being his burning green eyes and a matching will, a certain resolution.

With a shout, the demon clattered to the ground, gritting his teeth and clutching his wounds. He wondered, who the hell was this guy?! But the anger was quickly replaced with alarm when he appeared right above him, lifted his and prodded carefully at his injuries.

“Relax,” the voice told him softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The fingers that had been gently pushing up on his jaw disappeared, and with bleary eyes, the demon looked at the hand being offered to him.

He was afraid, expecting to be hurt. But the reassuring smile and the calm air about the man above him somehow made him a little more willing. Taking his hand, the demon was pulled to his feet with an unexpected strength, to the point where he stumbled into the other.

“I’m taking him to the infirmary.” he heard the man say as he was supported completely, practically carried by him. Just then, the demon became aware of everyone’s eyes on him, including the commander’s who had witnessed his embarrassing defeat. Lowering his head shamefully, he tried not to think too hard about it while he limped along with the man.

There was a point along their slow progression where the demon supporting him seemed tired of having to go so slow, or maybe he was just trying to get him help faster. The demon had a feeling he’d never know. The only thing he processed was that suddenly he was swept up and was flopped over the man’s shoulders, his wrists and ankles held firmly to support him.

The demon coughed. “Why...Why are you doing this?” he asked hoarsely, and below, the demon carrying him shushed him gently.

“Pa...P-Paranomia-” the demon tried again, only to see his green eyes flash at him, looking oddly uncertain and even a little afraid, but so strong and defiant at the same time that the demon was frightened into silence. He didn’t do much from then on, only feeling his head thump into the other’s shoulder with every step.

After a while, he was dizzy from all the blood rushing to his head. Were he more aware, he would have noticed that they’d been walking in circles for the past several moments, and only now were they changing direction.

He was brought into a bright room, or maybe that was just the lighter shade of grey they walls were. “Sorry.” Paranomia apologised softly, noticing how he narrowed his eyes and let out a quiet groan. “Here, just relax…”

Letting out a yelp when the support suddenly disappeared, the demon jolted. Everything happened in a blur, but then he was laying on a soft cot instead of being subjected to gravity’s grasp.

His breathing was fast and his eyes were shut tightly, at least until he realised he wasn’t falling and wasn’t going to hit anything. Opening one eye at a time, he met Paranomia’s powerful gaze, blinking serenely down at him, before the demon turned and left without a word.

He didn’t know much at that time, but he did know that this demon was stronger than anyone he had ever encountered before. Something in his eyes, or perhaps just the way he carried himself, but regardless, he knew he had to see this Paranomia again.

O~o~O

Recently, Arthur had been going out on his own.

He spent a lot of time thinking, scheming, planning out exactly how he was going to do this. It involved a lot of lone expeditions and flights, going out of his way to look for things and spy on important people. A lot of it seemed oddly urgent coming from him, but he wanted to feel like he was at least doing something. Especially when every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was a pale face with soulless, mirror-like eyes, haunting him every time he started to feel comfortable.

Alfred had asked if he wanted some company, but Arthur had told him it wasn’t necessary.

It was supposed to be a secret, after all.

Initially, it worried Alfred. He knew very well that Arthur could handle himself, and that Arthur had the reassurance of being able to come back to a home, but that didn’t stop him from asking every day if Arthur wanted this, needed that, when he would come back, if he could use anything.

If he were honest, Arthur found it really sweet. Alfred waited for him and greeted him warmly while Arthur told him what he’d learned, and never said anything about Arthur being up too late, because he didn’t need to. Arthur knew, but he wasn’t tired. He was wide awake, and didn’t sleep much or very well despite all that had happened to him. The worst part was, he simply didn’t want to sleep. Even after exhausting, long flights traversing cities, Arthur could hardly find himself enticed by the thought of resting anymore just because of the faint nervousness that came from the fear of dreaming about Camael. Sometimes he’d stay out so late that Alfred would even be asleep by the time he came back.

Occasionally, if he was warm enough and still, he could find a few hours of peace. The one thing he hadn’t told Alfred about his trouble sleeping was the fact he was afraid of seeing Camael, because the recurring dream was always the same. “Look what you did,” he’d say with a leer, and then gesture over the dead worlds. The end was something Arthur never wanted to think about, and yet his third eye decided to force-feed it to his unconscious mind.

Alfred was becoming a little more observant, with Arthur around all the time at that point. He still retained that privacy wall that Arthur learned to appreciate greatly, but he did little things to show that he could tell something was off or that everything was alright. Arthur also became more keen to things about Alfred, and learnt a lot of his little quirks and habits. Embarrassingly enough, the group seemed to notice their different intimacy, the kind of intimate where they’d be play wrestling one moment and then standing a little bit too close the next. They were more curious than anything else, but even so, Arthur and Alfred both actively tried to keep from doing much more than simply living in the same place in front of them. Act professionally. Though, when alone with one another, Arthur felt free to relax however he wanted to, as did Alfred, and it usually involved being together.

They’d started to come up with plans to follow should something go wrong. Alfred was very enthusiastic about these sort of plans, and insisted on naming them and assigning code words to them. Literally every scenario had a different name and code word, and it was hard to keep up with all of them at times. For example, in a situation where both of them were being attacked, Alfred would yell “Operation Tornado!” and Arthur would respond with “Get to the eye!” Luckily, Arthur had all of the ones they’d made so far written in his journal for future reference. They even talked about sharing some of the plans with the group.

All the fun Arthur was having during the waking hours and the work he did during his intended sleeping hours was changing all of them in a way. As he progressed, it occurred to him that the group needed more than just aimless recreational activity. They needed direction too, so he talked it over with Alfred about how he would start training them.

Though, sometimes he felt he was actually having more fun at night.

Flipping and arcing through the cities of Hell, Arthur went places he never thought he’d go, disguising himself as people he never thought he’d be. But he got things done, so it didn’t matter; if acting and hiding was what it entailed, he’d do it.

The Nkri graveyard was one of the first places he went back to. It would be a place he’d visit a lot, initially testing his endurance before he got used to the distance. He was never gone long, at least, on his terms. Flying around and reading, observing and taking note in the changes of the dead, as well as exploring for a while was all it took. Then he’d go back home.

He did that once every moon or so. Beyond that, he went different places every time. Places where the dark name Paranomia had not yet reached, where no one knew he was a fugitive. He also went to places he knew well, only staying carefully within the shadows out of sight and sound. He never showed himself in the same place twice, even if he promised someone he’d be there. He never quite let anyone look him in the face, either.

It was perfect. He was learning a lot. And without anyone who knew him, he could do so much more than he could before.

“I haven’t been around here for awhile.” he explained one dull night to a group of demons playing a card game that he joined in on. “I’ve heard that a lot has happened, what, with the Angelicans pissing the commanders off.”

They looked a little intimidated by his tone of voice and his accent. “Yea, some things have gone down here. They took down the citadel.” one grumbled around piercings in his mouth, his apparently tough and burly features paling to Arthur’s sheer cold demeanour. Arthur glanced at him from the side, and the demon immediately looked away, his eyes wide because he certainly didn’t expect to feel vulnerable and afraid this night. He nervously set forth his cards, setting them accordingly for the complicated game.

Messing with his own cards, Arthur organised his set and noticed how one demon had sweat shining on his brow, one girl was hunching her shoulders, and the others were fiddling with their cards in a pointed attempt to not look at him.

They couldn’t look him in the eye. They were very obviously trying not to.

He didn’t feel bad. They couldn’t know him. But...He wasn’t trying to come off as cruel. “It’s your turn, love.” he gently reminded the smaller of the two female demons across the small wooden table, whose hands were shaking. He reckoned she was rather young, which was part of the reason she was so anxious-looking.

Her eyes widened for a moment, most likely assuming that she’d done something wrong. Not saying anything, she let her cards slide into place one by one, revealing her standings. Blinking almost boredly at them, Arthur gave no sign that it was only setting up his perfect turn that would end the game very quickly. The other woman added her cards, then the two men opposite them who looked a lot like the one sitting next to Arthur, and none of them seemed to notice that Arthur had only enough cards for one more turn, meaning he’d win. The small bag of coins sat patiently in the centre of the table, waiting for the victor to claim it.

Arthur was also amused vaguely by the fact none of them noticed that no one had played any of the aces.

With an impassive, unfeeling expression, he delicately set his cards on the respective piles, all except one. Then, after hesitating a moment to see their paled, shocked faces, he set down the final of his cards, an ace, in the last pile. “...And the Ace of Spades.” he commented matter-of-factly, holding the card thoughtfully for a moment and looking at the ink drawing of the figurative card character, before finally letting it fall onto the pile. Demonic, yes. Supreme, of course. That’s what an Ace was, after all. Perhaps they would start calling him that, Paranomia, the Ace of Spades.

He stood, without a word, gracefully stepping around them to pick up the bag in the middle. He would have left then, but he noticed the shoulders of the girl trembling a little bit. The others just looked dumbfounded and were most likely still trying to process what had just happened.

Arthur opened the bag out of sight of all of them and got a small amount, deciding how generous he felt. “It’s alright. Don’t fret it.” he murmured to her, offering what was in his gloved hand to her behind the others’ backs. Then, he turned around and walked off, opening the door and heading into the pouring rain.

He knew what to expect if he left so quickly, so he didn’t spread his wings to fly and he stopped walking when he heard the sound of a few demons exiting the pub as well.

“You cheated.” a voice accused behind him.

Turning, Arthur stood tall and straight despite being soaking wet to the point where his red hair was already dripping. Not quite cockily, but with more of a sophisticated confidence. “I wouldn’t say that.” he disagreed in a level voice, not sounding in the least troubled. “I just happen to be very, very lucky.”

The demons before him bared their teeth in anger, and Arthur rolled his eyes before lowering his chin, knowing what was coming. The taller, bulkier, angrier demons began to come at him with wrath in their claws and greed in their eyes.

It ended almost embarrassingly quickly, with a pile of groaning, miserable ‘bad sports,’ and with Arthur flying off leisurely, a smug grin on his face.

O~o~O

As he glided back in the house, checking all directions for any lurking demons, Arthur switched forms and snuck in as quietly as he could. Somehow, even with his bright white wings and tunic, the shadows disguised him well.

Not that he needed to be hidden; Alfred was asleep on the bed.

For whatever reason, as an angel, Arthur didn’t wake up Alfred as easily as he did in his demon form; were he still a demon, Alfred would probably already have woken up and asked him where he’d been. Still, he’d have to be quiet. He may not have known why demons didn’t pick up so much on angels unconsciously, but he wasn’t going to test it out just yet.

Padding silently to the bathroom, Arthur washed his sweaty face, preened his wings, and then flew back out to the bed. There, he hesitated, not sure how silent he could be crawling in. His tired gaze flitted around, trying to figure out how to best sneak on, before it finally landed on Alfred.

A small smile lighted up his face while he looked down fondly upon the sleeping demon. Alfred was lying on his stomach, his cheek smushed on the pillow, making his slightly troubled expression look extremely childish. His form went up and down with his elongated, relaxed breathing, and his arm reached for something that wasn’t there. At least, not yet. The angel reached with a warm, peachy hand and tenderly stroked the demon’s black hair, before it retracted and the angel slowly lifted a corner of the blanket on his side of the bed to disappear underneath it.

He made himself comfortable as slowly as possible, with a relieved smile as the warmth enveloped him; the night had been very chilly. The shivers running up and down his exposed skin slowly died down, until he’d managed to arrange his wings and angle himself to face Alfred to move up close. “Shh, shhh…” he hushed gently, when Alfred shifted a little bit. Though, he couldn’t help a small chuckle when Alfred subconsciously found Arthur and snuggled closer himself with a quiet, tired noise.

With a soft “Mwah,” Arthur kissed Alfred’s forehead and then let himself relax, deep sleep taking over him automatically. Huddled up warmly with Alfred and his little nest of blankets, Arthur slept quite well, feeling safe and content in the arms of darkness.

O~o~O

“No- Look, see, when you do that, your entire back is exposed. Yea, if you do it faster like that, that might work.” Arthur adjusted the form on the demon a little bit more, and then stood in front of him. “Good! Now try to hit me again...Right, I know you can hit harder than that. Don’t be afraid of hurting me. That’s better, a little bit har- oomph!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened a little in shock when Arthur stumbled a step, wheezing. He reached for Arthur, looking startled he’d done such a thing. “Ah, Paranomia-”

Arthur held up a hand, his other holding his side. “I’m fine.” he gasped. “That’s enough to bruise, you could go harder, though. Remember, we’re going for a disabling move, not a silly little play fight.” Ludwig nodded slowly while Arthur limped back into his spot. “Also, with smaller targets, you’d have to concentrate on power as well. To face you, I’d have to be fast. To face me, you’d have to be more powerful. It’s all simple physics, really.” he coughed.

“Paranomia, why would we just want to disable someone?” as Ludwig stepped back, someone else from the wide circle of demons stepped forth for their turn. They were all watching and learning off one another, as was Arthur, only he was taking most of the hits. It was almost time to go away for the night; they’d been at it for awhile after a Beating first thing and even some of them were a little battered from practicing. “Why wouldn’t we just go for the kill?”

He tiredly started to turn, taking in a ragged breath, before another demon spoke for him. “When you kill someone, they can no longer fight. When you disable someone, they can no longer fight either, but they are alive so you can eventually make them fight for you.” explained a short, longer-haired demon called Yao. That demon was very reasonable and quick with his hands. In fact, he was almost faster than Arthur and could easily knock a demon like Ludwig down.

Arthur chuckled weakly. “Exactly that, thank you.”

“I think it’s better to have the potential of getting another ally instead of having to bury someone you’ll never know.” Alfred spoke up, grinning at the demon who’d asked. “Besides, the more, the merrier! Why kill when you can make friends?”

The demons all shared agreeable nods and a little bit of laughter, which Arthur noticed made Alfred beam; he loved entertaining people.

More relaxed than before, the demons took a little more lightly to Arthur’s black humour from then on, believing him when he said they could hit him. He did end up probably breaking something, and he knew they felt genuinely bad for hurting him, but they needed to practice on something. Arthur thought it was a great idea to put himself at the receiving end of their blows, and didn’t even think about how it might affect them. In fact, the idea seemed to make more and more sense with every hit as he got dizzier and dizzier.

Finally, it was Alfred’s turn. Alfred shuffled up to Arthur’s unsteady form, his blue eyes dancing around their feet, before he finally looked at Arthur, who was hunched over a bit from the effort of standing with a sore torso, making Alfred have one or two more inches than usual on him. “I can’t hit you.” he said matter-of-factly.

He had that sort of puppy-like expression, the lost and mournful look that always made Arthur find himself doing whatever the demon wanted. “Come on, it’s necessary to know how it feels to hit someone hard enough to knock them over at least.” he tried to insist, and he glanced over Alfred’s shoulder to see the others grinning at them curiously. “Just to see how much it takes. That’s all you need to do.”

Alfred frowned and leaned even closer, closer than they were already standing. “I’ve been watching you get beat up all day.” he murmured in Arthur’s ear, barely loud enough for him to hear. “All I wanna do is heal you up and give you hugs because I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Raising his brows in an amused way, Arthur turned his head to look at Alfred and spoke just a fraction louder than him. “You can’t have any hugs until you hit me.” he taunted, trying to stand straight and cross his arms.

He’d said it a little louder intentionally; a couple of the demons around them giggled when Alfred stood straight again and looked down at him with an attempted stern expression. “You see this line?” he asked Arthur while gesturing to the ground, struggling to keep a straight face. “You just crossed it. You crossed that line. How dare you.” At this point he was actually shaking while holding back laughter.

Arthur was a little more deadpan with his teasing. “No hugs for an entire moon,” he warned, watching Alfred point dramatically at the ground.

“Guys, Artie’s being mean to me!” Alfred whined loudly in response, making some of the demons double over with laughter. Apparently, watching Paranomia and Alfred bicker playfully was funny.

With a roll of his eyes, Arthur prodded Alfred’s leg with his tail. “Oh, come off it and have at me, you great galoot. I’m not asking for much.” he thought Alfred’s hesitance was rather funny, and quite cute. “Just do it.”

Alfred sighed and pouted. “But I don’t want to.” he protested childishly. All his subtlety from before had vanished, since it was pointless anyway; the demons probably had already picked up on how close they were. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Artie.”

Sighing and shaking his head, Arthur crossed his arms. “You won’t hurt me.” he said as if it were ridiculous to think of such a thing, though it must not have been very reassuring with his hazy eyes and his difficulty standing straight. He did stand his ground, determined and convinced that he could take a million hits and still be fine. Alfred was most likely worried because the last time he’d hit Arthur, he was in the form of an arc demon with the intention to kill. Arthur had forced any fear of that down before, and now all the effects of him taking so many hits put him in a state of stupid confidence. “Show me what you’ve got, Alfred.”

It wasn’t doing much other than making Alfred conflicted. The demon frowned, half-heartedly rearing back his fist and slumping his shoulders. He was used to listening and doing what Arthur told him, but he genuinely did not want to hit him despite the order given. His fist ended up gently thumping Arthur’s shoulder.

“Oh, please.” Arthur made an exasperated noise. “That was nothing, I want you to try to knock-”

“Arthur, I can’t. Please don’t make me, I can’t.” Alfred lowered his arm, looking upset. “Please, Artie, I can’t. I just can’t.” he shuffled forward, arms open like he wanted to hug Arthur, but, irritated, Arthur shunned him and backed away.

It surprised him, actually, when he resisted. He normally wouldn’t get so angry over such a thing, but for some reason, Alfred’s unwillingness to cooperate frustrated him. He didn’t say anything to Alfred, and turned his back to the demon. “We’re done for now.” he told the others, his tone unexpectedly harsh. “Next time, we’ll do some more sparring. For now, get some rest, and keep yourself healthy.”

Pretending to be unaffected by his demeanour, the demons nodded and waved with quiet farewells before flying away to where they lived, one by one. Within moments, the entire army had all but disappeared, even the ones who had not participated in Arthur’s circle. All of them were gone, all but Alfred, who still stood behind him. Arthur breathed in deeply but shakily, trying to calm himself down.

The silence was tense. For a while, Arthur didn’t turn around at all, rather, focusing on breathing correctly since his lungs weren’t quite working the way they should. However, the minute he picked up on the sound of a boot sliding on the damp concrete, Arthur whirled around to face Alfred with an unintentional glare.

“A-Arthur?” Alfred asked meekly, wringing his hands. He looked like he wanted to approach Arthur, but was too nervous to try. “...Artie, I’m...I’m really sorry…” he mumbled, lowering his head and looking anywhere else but Arthur’s eyes. He didn’t appear to know what he did wrong, other than refusing to do what Arthur wanted, of course. But still, he was apologising.

Arthur’s head was clearing just a little bit. Wrinkling his nose, not at Alfred but at the flash of pain in his side, Arthur started to limp forward towards Alfred. “It’s...It’s alright, Alfred. I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I’m just not…” he trailed off when he tripped, and Alfred immediately flew forward to catch Arthur, even though he wasn’t falling. “...F-feeling too good.” he finished awkwardly.

He glanced up when Alfred didn’t do anything, only to see that the demon was backing off, afraid of coming near Arthur. For what reason, Arthur had no idea, only that it was his fault.

Sighing, he righted himself and spread his wings as best as he could. “Let’s go home.” he said, feeling guilt bloom in him. And with that, he took off.

O~o~O

During the time he spent preparing for his nightly expedition, Arthur kept an eye on Alfred, who was watching him like a kicked puppy. Normally, Alfred would be following him around, asking if he needed anything, if there was anything he could do to help. He did it almost every day, and now it seemed so strange that Alfred was just sitting on the bed, waiting for him to go.

Arthur felt horrible, but he had no idea what he could say.

By now, Arthur was normally all healed up by Alfred and ready to go, but he was still limping around and also had absolutely no motivation to go anywhere. He still didn’t feel like sleeping, and had to convince himself that there wasn’t anything better to do. But there was this low, terrible feeling in him that made it really hard to just leave like he wanted to.

He did have to heal up somehow, but he didn’t want to interact with Alfred only to just leave him; that would be cruel. So he stood in the doorway to the balcony inside the place. He faced outside so he wouldn’t be looking at Alfred, and started to unbutton his jacket, intending to make himself cry so he could heal himself.

Though, after several moments, it became clear that it wasn’t going to happen. He even tried to make himself sad, but all that did was make his already depressed mood even worse. It would have concerned him, since angels were able to cry easily at will even if they weren’t actually sad, but he wasn’t even thinking about that.

He thought of the worlds ending. That was pretty sad, but it didn’t get much out of him. Not even the teary eyes he normally would get after thinking of such an awful thing. Had he worn the subject out? His hands stopped messing with his shirt once he could see the bruises, and he looked down at them. Thinking about the war overwhelming the realms make him incredibly sad, but his eyes remained dry. All he could do was sniffle.

Almost immediately, Arthur heard the shifting of blankets when Alfred zoomed off the bed and flew out to him, almost like he’d triggered some sort of alarm. Though, when he looked at Alfred in surprise, it did look quite like there were sirens going off in his head.

“Arthur? What’s wrong?” he asked, looking slightly startled that Arthur’s torso was partially showing. “A-are you okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine, Alfred, I was just thinking.” he replied, trying to smile. It looked more like a grimace.

Alfred frowned, his amazingly expressive eyes still looking very sombre. Gaze flitting about, he gave Arthur a once over, finally brave enough to look down at him. He looked surprised at the angry, blotchy grey marks along Arthur’s side, and moved his hand away cautiously. He didn’t appear to catch on to Arthur’s intention to heal himself, to his relief.

“I can, um, heal you. I-if you want.” he offered softly, like he was expecting to be denied. He looked up at Arthur, his bright blue eyes wide and unsure. But Arthur nodded, and Alfred relaxed instantly and quickly knelt down to mend Arthur’s sore injuries.

A relieved sigh escaped Arthur as the pain finally started to ebb away. He could take pain, of course he could. But it was really pointless to sustain injuries when he could heal them, especially when he had things to take care of. “Th-thank you.” he muttered, as the wound from his leg was healed as well. The bruises on his side were still a little sore, since Alfred didn’t have the ability to heal them all the way, but they didn’t hurt anymore.

Once Alfred had finished, he stood, looking over Arthur and making sure there wasn’t anything else Arthur needed healed. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t figure out how to word it, or maybe he was just too shy to. That only made Arthur feel worse; that meant Alfred didn’t feel like he could talk to Arthur.

He had to try and fix this as best as he could. It was going to be hard, because he and Alfred had never had a problem before. But Arthur did this, so he had to reconcile it. He went for it before he could hesitate.

“What’s the matter, Alfred?” he asked gently, deciding on his instinctual approach. Careful not to move quickly or be too blunt, he swallowed nervously but tried to keep a calm facade.

Alfred’s eyes flickered at his for a moment, before he looked away. His mouth was turned in a particular frown that gave off every sign of not wanting to speak, but Arthur was patient. He also noticed Alfred gulp noticeably. He was silent for awhile. “...It...It gets lonely here without you. Whenever you go away during the sleeping hours.” Alfred finally let out, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

TIlting his head with a sad face, Arthur opened his mouth to apologise, but Alfred spoke over him suddenly, like he was expecting to be told something else. “I-I know I was already alone before you came here! I just never knew loneliness like you do. And now that I’m so used to seeing you and living with you every day, it just feels strange when you’re gone.” as he went on, his voice got quieter and quieter until he was just mumbling almost inaudibly. He didn’t look like he understood what he was saying himself.

Arthur had had no idea Alfred had felt that way all this time. He knew that Alfred had definitely wanted to come with him and help him, but it never even occurred to him that Alfred could be lonely. Blinking, Arthur felt his heart clench; as this went on, he was only feeling more and more like a terrible person. “...I’m sorry.” he apologised softly. “I didn’t think you were lonely, I-”

“You’re so fast paced! You get so much done when you’re not sleeping, and you’re so clever too! I know that I would slow you down, but you can teach me to keep up, can’t you?” Alfred suddenly said, looking at him with wide, desperate eyes. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m not sure I can handle myself as well as you. Hell, you handle me better than I handle me. But you- you do all this stuff yourself and I wanna help! I feel really useless just sitting here doing nothing while you’re saving the worlds. N-not that I wanna steal your thunder or anything, but I just...I thought we were in this together now.”

“We are in this together.” Arthur replied automatically, reaching out for Alfred, only to hesitate. “I...I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise...I didn’t realise it was that important.” Alfred’s hand twitched, like he wanted to move closer as well, so Arthur continued forward a little reluctantly and took Alfred’s hand. “You’re right. This isn’t something either one of us can do ourselves. We have to have each other’s backs. I know you have mine, and...Well, I suppose I should work on really showing that I have yours, too.” he smiled guiltily and moved forward to pull Alfred into an embrace.

Alfred hugged him back tightly, looking upset and relieved at the same time. Rubbing his back, Arthur tilted his chin up so he could murmur in Alfred’s ear. “You’re upset and I’m really sorry. I want to make it better. You can come with me tonight, alright? Also...I know that what I did earlier upset you as well.” he glanced down, taking a big breath to reassure himself. “It was wrong of me to ask you to hit me when you didn’t want to. I’m not actually sure why I thought it was a good idea; I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so sorry, Alfred.”

He felt Alfred shudder and bury his face in Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Artie.” he replied quietly. “It just confused me, and kinda scared me because...W-well, last time I hit you, I-I was-”

“I know.” Arthur spared him the explanation calmly, his tail finding Alfred’s and twisting with it. Alfred calmed down a little when he did that. “I know, I’m sorry.”

With that encouragement, Alfred pulled back just an inch to look at Arthur. “Are we...Are we okay now?” he asked softly.

Arthur smiled privately at him, a smile he would only let Alfred see. “That’s up to you.” he answered, affectionately combing his fingers through Alfred’s black hair and leaning closer again. It appeared to be all Alfred needed to smile back and relax, finally.

It wasn’t so bad. With the relief of there no longer being a problem, both Arthur and Alfred took a moment to take it easy before they were ready to leave as Arthur had promised.

“You sure you don’t just want to sleep?” Alfred had asked him, just to be sure.

Shaking his head, Arthur smiled wryly at him. “I’m wide awake, there’s no chance I’m sleeping.”

And with that, he took off with Alfred right behind. Diving along the shadow-strewn streets and flying far through the chilly, silky breeze, and under the dull, silvery light of the moon.

There was something very thrilling about flying at night with someone else, something that excited Arthur with their speed and twisting directions. The air was cold, but his muscles were warming up and he flew powerfully into it, easily facing the wind. It almost seemed like Alfred was having trouble keeping up with how fast Arthur was going.

The streets were a dark blur, the obstacles anticipated and avoided easily like they weren’t even there. Twirling through the night and picking up the pace, Arthur shot through the air like an arrow because his lungs were wide and his heart was excited, and he wanted to keep it that way. He felt so liberated, and something told him that the demon beside him felt the same way. As if the bright grin wasn’t enough proof.

Arthur could see his blue eyes glittering in the dark. “Having fun?” he whispered, a shadow covering his own eyes from the faint light above. Alfred responded with a nod and an even wider smile up at him.

By the time sweat sheened their pale faces, they had reached a far, barren part of the city. They both panted softly as they slowed down, Arthur gesturing silently to remain quiet. He didn’t know what was here, but he had seen some highly ranked demons head in this direction before. Tonight, he wanted to know the reason for it.

After tilting their wings to head upwards, they landed softly on the roof of the shortest building. Their boots barely made a sound as they crept quickly along the edge, Arthur listening carefully and Alfred looking around once they reached a wall to make sure no one was around.

“...As per our instructions to...looking for the…” Alfred picked up on the faint voice first, but as soon as Arthur heard it, he whipped his head up in its direction and started to head towards it along the wall. “...Been messing with our...but we can’t allow...when we’re this close…”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and ducked his head once they reached a low edge, crouching so he wasn’t in view of anyone in the building across from them. Making sure Alfred did the same, he tried to go as fast as he could without making a sound. He had to ignore his back aching from being hunched over and with his wings folded so tightly. “...Came and told the Commander to avoid...he’ll kill us if we don’t…” Arthur strained to hear more.

Finally, they reached a taller wall and stood back up straight, backs flat against the brick. “...Said he’ll keep a close watch on…” Inching closer and closer, step by step, Arthur and Alfred finally reached a point where they could hear the speaker clearly. Dropping down to their knees, they peeked over the top of the roof down at a small gathering of demons, all with intimidating uniforms that suggested very high rank. One of them was standing and talking. “...So once we’ve found him we can be rid of him. As long as he’s out of the way, Camael will be satisfied; he said he’ll take care of everything else.”

With a glance at each other, both Arthur and Alfred’s eyes widened.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY STARS GUYS I'M SO SORRY IT'S BEEN LIKE TWO MONTHS AHHHH
> 
> Okay so I do have kind of an excuse, um basically I was well into writing this chapter and was gonna finish it sometime late January, early February, but at school I volunteered to do a demonstration in Physics on momentum and long story short I got a concussion from it which led to a huge writer's block :(
> 
> I'm still working on getting out of it XD But recently I got like a gajillion ideas for this chapter which is why it goes in so many directions at once...It's probably a little confusing XD Some of it will make sense later though :D
> 
> Okay! So, Linkin Park song for this one XD No More Sorrow is lowkey one of the coolest songs ever, just sayin'. If sung, it would be in Arthur's point of view, but directed at Camael and some faceless demons that we don't know yet...If that makes sense...
> 
> You know I literally just realised I totally forgot to do lyrical input but that's okay XD My favourite line goes something like this:
> 
> "I see pain  
> I see need  
> I see liars and thieves,  
> Abuse power with greed,  
> I had hope  
> I believed  
> But I'm beginning to think that I've been deceived..."
> 
> Which I mean duh he already knows he's been deceived and stuff but it could also imply that he's becoming a bit paranoid too, like with everyone...Paranoia Paranomia ;) Plus he's been super observant recently so maybe it's just really easy to see who the liars are XD
> 
> For the Beating! Remember how Arthur totally spat some rhymes for it? That was about the time I got my concussion and all my poetry skills went out the door XD So credit for the poem Arthur rapped goes to my bestie, CharlesSalazar!! :D
> 
> Actually that should go with the disclaimer but idk I gotta type fast because it's sleepy time-(I have a track meet tomorrow *sweats nervously*)
> 
> Disclaimer** I don't own Hetalia, the bible, uhh Charles' thing, and the cover art is by Makoyana!
> 
> Thanks for reading!! Sorry it took so long! (P.S. On Fanfiction.net you guys should like totally log in so when you review I can reply and scream because y'all make me really happy XD)
> 
> ~Madz


	3. The Handler

O~o~O

Arthur was working on his theory for how demon ranks worked.

Like angels, ranking was very complicated and hard to understand. But, like the language English, it made sense until one was trying to learn something else.

He’d given instructions to the demons in the group to practice defencive moves on one another while he sat on his old crate, grumpily sketching and scribbling in his journal. Listening to them was too distracting, so he tuned them out while he took up a considerable amount of pages, his mind practically doing gymnastics trying to figure everything out.

Demon ranks appeared to work similarly to angel ranks in that there was a hierarchy that had to do with power. Whether or not that power was magically bestowed as they were to angels, Arthur had yet to find out. One recurring trend was the fact that demons of higher ranks were generally more worn and bigger than others, as in physically scarred and larger. Dents in their long, twirling horns, clipped ears, tattered wings, and the largest demon Arthur had ever seen had a thick metal piercing in her nose like the kind used by humans to lead a bull to-

He only looked up when he heard a sharp cry, throwing off his concentration. Whipping his head up, Arthur looked at Alfred, who smiled nervously at his hard look and continued to do what he was trying to. His glare was caught between something like ‘you threw off my thinking’ and ‘be more careful, you git.’ “Of bloody course I’m hyper-sensitive to him.” Arthur muttered, wrinkling his nose when he realise how sore his neck was from looking down for so long.

Groaning irritably, Arthur tilted his head forward, and then in a slow circle to stretch the back tendons in his neck. His head felt a little better when he did that, but it still ached; he’d been thinking too much and not sleeping enough. He opened his eyes and watched the demons practice for a little while. Why were they smiling and laughing? Why did it all seem like a game to them? “This is war,” he muttered to himself, wrinkling his nose and resting his arm on his knee. “Not recess.”

Though, he knew the war didn’t involve them quite yet. But it would, it would soon enough. And they had to be ready.

But ready for what? Arthur pondered the various scenarios in which they could get involved. Perhaps they could pretend they were Demonocratic vigilantes for a while, serving what they called justice before truly revealing their place. That sounded a bit ridiculous. Maybe he could go find Phobos and Deimos and spy on them to see where they were involved in this complicated network of deception. Or maybe he could let himself be found by the commanders searching for him and see how he and his group stand against an attack. But for that to work, he and Alfred would have to do some more night work…

Arthur blinked when he realised as he was going over ways to go about his objective, he was angrily scratching Camael’s face in thick, dusty graphite in his journal. He was only surprised for a moment, his expression twisting into a snarl. The Seraph had that same serene, languid smile as he did in his dreams. The dreams, or rather, nightmares, had gotten more persistent, leading to Arthur sleeping less and less. The only difference was that Camael’s eyes had gotten darker and a little bluer, so they were less like mirrors and more like a deep lagoon. And much like water, he could see his reflection rippling in them, until he was distorted beyond recognition.

Camael had been very intrusive in his thoughts recently, to a point where Arthur was becoming concerned about it. It wasn’t normal to constantly, subconsciously think about one person, and it certainly wasn’t healthy to feel a rush of adrenaline every time it came up. It was apparently so strong that Alfred could even smell it on him, the senseless urgency and aimless fear.

Whatever it was, Arthur found himself unable to say that it was just him anymore. Something was being done to him. It was the only way to explain why he felt like he was always being watched, and why he couldn’t shut his eyes without bile threatening to rise in his throat. It wasn’t quite natural, but it wasn’t quite magical either. It had to be something inherent, something that already existed that Arthur knew about. Something he already had that could be rid of.

He had become irritable and angrier as it went on, as anyone would expect from being sleep-deprived. But Arthur hardly noticed; the only time he could see it was when he surprised himself by saying something that came off as harsher than he’d intended. As a consequence, his group and even Alfred had become slightly more wary of him. He genuinely didn’t know why; he was acting the part and doing his best to lead them. If there was one thing he was doing right, at least, it was the teaching. His group had gotten better at fighting and a lot stronger than they were before. Yes, he was a little more violent and aggressive, but it was necessary for them.

At least Alfred still was bold towards him. In front of the army, Alfred backed down a little more often, but when they were alone, they were just as intimate as they had been. If that didn’t remain the same, Arthur didn’t think he could stay sane.

Letting out a huff, Arthur closed his journal and slid it back in his inside pocket. He decided he needed to talk to Alfred later about his dreams; perhaps the new perspective would give him some ideas, though Arthur knew he was in for a lecture or something along those lines for keeping secrets. But the idea of Alfred trying to lecture Arthur made him smile briefly in amusement. That quickly went away, when he jumped off the crate he’d been sitting on and flew over to the group to check on how they were doing.

“Oi. That’s enough for now, you can take it easy. I know it’s early, so we’ll do a different exercise.” he came through them, looking around at the demons. They were all panting, shiny with sweat, and were a little bit battered. Arthur remembered he couldn’t overwork them in such an enclosed area like the alley, otherwise they’d overheat. One of his more minor concerns was that they might think he wasn’t working as hard as they were, because he didn’t ever get too hot. Either that or they might think he was far stronger than they already thought, which arguably could be a better stance. He glanced at Alfred, who grinned tiredly at him. “This won’t be hard. Pair up with someone different, and we’ll do some light wrestling. This time, try to restrain your opponent’s wings so they can’t open them up. Without hurting them, if you can.”

Working with some of the newer demons to the group, Arthur demonstrated various ways to immobilise an enemy without having to hurt them. In fact, the only time they could get hurt if it was done right was if they squirmed or struggled too hard.

One of the demons slightly bigger than Arthur tried to restrain him, but his grip wasn’t quite hard enough and Arthur easily escaped from him. But then, after having one of the more experienced demons try and hold him back, Arthur remembered they might not be able to hold him back anyway; his wings were still stronger because he had different muscles developed from being an angel, muscles that were generally weaker in a demon’s back. So, along with his pointers in mastering the hold, he gradually pretended to be held back as well. He hoped it would get to a point where he wouldn’t have to pretend, eventually.

He also had to teach them to escape from a weaker hold, so the reverse had to be done as well. Instructing them to start off gently, he showed how exactly to wiggle out of a tough grip and be ready to fight back. Once he’d done it a couple of times, he let them try to escape from him.

The only newer one who could manage it, even if he wasn’t holding them that tightly, was a demon who he expected to learn quickly. He had restrained her, but she shook him off with a startling force and turned around with a victorious grin. “Very good, Elizaveta,” Arthur praised her, unable to help smiling at her when she grinned at him. From the moment they’d committed Opia the day he met her, Arthur knew she would be quick to learn and very clever. It was something in her eyes, something unbroken and defiant.

“Thank you, Paranomia.” She thanked him, bowing her head a little bit. She had a very admiring smile; she had expressed to him once that she’d wanted to join him for awhile, only it was difficult to escape the base since it had become more strict with Paranomia gone and out of their control. So during the time she wasn’t able to leave, she’d done some asking around and got some really useful information for Arthur. Things that Arthur didn’t even think of. She was very dedicated to his slightly vague cause, and the fact that she actually thought to ask around for such things before she could join proved she was very intelligent and keen, and was a valuable addition to his army.

In fact, it gave him a small idea as to how he could go about spying. The way she did it reminded him of how he was doing things at night, but he could do it on a larger scale with some people from the group, too…

“Alright, that’s enough for now. We’ll continue next time with something else. I’m putting together a plan for us to infiltrate the base come the next few moons or so. Just be ready for us to adjust when and where we meet. You have all been doing very well with training, but keep practicing to make sure your technique is impeccable!” he dismissed them, and they all flew out with encouraged smiles at him.

He sighed as they went. They were stronger than he’d ever seen them! Feeling his chest swell with pride, he turned around to face Alfred, who’d approached him with a tired grin.

Relaxing, Arthur flicked Alfred with his tail. “A plan to infiltrate the base? Sounds exciting.” Alfred commented, raising his eyebrows and smiling broadly. “What are we gonna do, go all James Bond and bust in?”

Arthur tilted his head curiously when Alfred snickered at his own joke. “What...Sort of bond is a James bond? Are you saying we have the bond of James?” He asked, only to make Alfred burst out laughing.

“Aww, you don’t get that reference? Sad, sad,” Alfred made a face at him but still looked amused. “James Bond is a dude. Not just any dude, but the dude! He’s like a spy or something, a fictional character in the human world. In fact, he’s kinda like you.” When Arthur nodded in understanding, he blinked and added “A lot like you, actually.” though, he didn’t seem to know exactly why.

After a little bit of teasing banter, Arthur suggested they head back home, because he remembered he wanted to talk about his dreams. He felt tired suddenly, and the idea of curling up for a nap appealed to him greatly for awhile. As an experiment, he let his mind wander and thought a lot about sleeping, and, as he expected, he started thinking about Camael again. His heart skipped a beat.

It bugged him so much in that instant, to where he was physically disturbed about it. A very urgent feeling came over him and he opened his mouth to say something about it early on their flight back, only to realise Alfred was talking to him about something-or-other. It probably wasn’t anything too important, but Arthur felt bad for ignoring him. He closed his mouth and tried to concentrate on what the demon was saying, but kept spacing out.

That scared him. It wasn’t a normal spacing out, it was forced, like something was purposefully putting him out of focus and putting him in a floaty state of mind that repeatedly starred Camael. He felt sort of like it was similar to being dragged along the ground too fast to process what was happening or to escape.

“...So then I told him that if he really wanted my cottage cheese, he’d have to eat all the lima beans and become the king of ducks before I’d talk to him again.” Alfred said flatly. Arthur noticed Alfred turn his head to look at him, so he glanced over.

Then, he processed what Alfred had actually said, and looked at him in startled confusion. “What?”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Have you been listening to a thing I’ve been saying?” He looked a little ticked, but more hurt than anything else. Arthur looked away and narrowed his eyes, somehow looking more annoyed than remorseful like he really was.

“No, sorry. My mind’s on something else.” he muttered, not coming off as apologetic at all even though he did feel bad.

This didn’t seem to satisfy Alfred. “Something else? Like what?” he huffed, crossing his arms. His own eyes narrowed and his nose wrinkled almost defensively. Arthur knew Alfred didn’t like being talked over or ignored at all, and swallowed thickly. But no matter what he felt, nothing he said or did made him look like he was very guilty.

He ducked under a pipe and twirled to avoid a column before he answered. “There’s...Something I should tell you.” he mumbled quietly, finally managing to show that he did feel bad. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I really am. I’ve been distracted by dreams that are starting to...resurface now…” Almost on cue, he had to shake his head in an attempt to dissipate the thoughts, the vivid face he could see in his mind. He almost missed a turn because of how offput he became because of it.

“Dreams?” Alfred’s eyes were wide when Arthur looked at him again. “Arthur, what’s going on?” he asked worriedly.

Arthur let out a frustrated grunt when he saw death and destruction in his head, making him miscalculate a dive and clip his right wing and shoulder rather hard. It surprised him so much that it took him a moment to get back up to speed. “I-I’ll explain.” he promised in a tense voice through a wince, trying to correct his uneven wingbeat. “But let’s get back home first, I can’t concentrate and talk right now.”

Nodding in understanding, Alfred shut his mouth and flew on. He looked worried, and kept glancing at Arthur every few moments. But if anything, Arthur was relieved Alfred knew him so well enough to know when to trust his judgement.

Luckily, before Arthur could really hurt himself, he managed an unusually clumsy landing on the balcony. That was when he stumbled to the railing and held himself steady there, trying to will the images out of his head, when he felt strong arms wrap around him.

“Let’s go inside.” Alfred murmured in his ear, using the tone of voice that always calmed Arthur down from almost any state of distress. “Come on, Artie, let’s go lay down. Talk to me, buddy.”

Arthur huffed and allowed Alfred to lead him inside. Alfred was still holding on to him, and he walked all the way over to the bed. With more grace than Arthur had at the time, he fell back on the mattress and rolled just enough so they were lying down facing each other.

It felt like it had been forever since Arthur had last been on the bed with the intention to relax as they were. He pulled in a breath, and let out a very deep sigh as his mind began to clear up a little bit. His head felt fuzzy, so he closed his eyes for a moment, hoping it would go away. With his eyes closed, he tried to really feel, and return himself to the real world. The dreamscape was becoming too odious for him to keep going, and he was filled with gratitude that Alfred had led him back so quickly.

He felt his tail lying limply behind him, it’s lack of movement evidence of how tired he was. He felt the muscles in his legs, sore and relieved to be still. He felt his face relax, his horn pressing into the pillow his head was resting on. He felt his wings, only just aware that he hadn’t bothered to fold them properly against his back. He felt his gloved hands, one in a loose fist and the other held up, his fingers being played with by the demon lying beside him.

When Arthur opened his eyes again after a very long moment of focusing on his breathing, he saw Alfred watching him intently. The demon looked a little stressed, his eyebrows creasing worried lines into his forehead and his lips pursed in a straight line. They watched one another, blinking and staring for what felt like hours.

“How are you feeling?” Alfred asked softly, like he couldn’t stand the silence any longer. The unnerved and anxious look in his eyes was interesting, but unusual. Where was his smile, the friendly and easygoing expression he always had?

Arthur stirred a little bit, the tip of his tail twitching languidly. He wanted to shift closer, but felt no strength or will to. “I’m alright.” he replied in the same quiet tone. “Just...Tired. Very tired.”

Nodding faintly, Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand gently and, almost like he sensed Arthur’s desire, he moved himself closer. Then, he tilted his head forward, resting his forehead against Arthur’s. “What kind of dreams are haunting you this way?” he asked, bringing his free hand up to gently stroke underneath Arthur’s eyes, signalling that he meant the dark circles. Something about him looked physically pained and upset.

“Camael.” Arthur responded, closing his eyes at Alfred’s touch. “I have been dreaming of death, of war and pain and chaos. I am worried because the death does not…” he took a shaky breath. “The death does not faze me anymore. But when I see Camael, leering and taunting me, I cannot...I can’t think straight. I’m scared, Alfred.”

At those words, Alfred brought Arthur even closer, almost protectively. “I know.” he said. “I can smell your fear sometimes, and if you’re scared…” he started to smile, and even let out a small laugh. Arthur felt himself physically deflate with relief at his smile; that meant he was okay. “Well, that makes me terrified. But, Artie, I, um.” he stopped awkwardly.

Arthur raised a brow. “But what?” he asked.

Pouting thoughtfully, Alfred looked away almost guiltily. “I just...I don’t like it when you don’t tell me stuff. It- it just feels like you’re lying or something.” he fidgeted, starting to blush a little. “I mean, you know when I’m scared, because I always just come up and hug you, right? But I never actually know when you’re scared. I was starting to doubt if you were actually afraid, like my nose was wrong or something. For a while I was thinking you couldn’t be afraid at all! Which I mean is cool I guess, but also a little scary. I guess what I’m trying to say is, um...I-I want you to tell me what you’re feeling. I know you really well, but I can’t read your mind.”

“Oh.” Arthur finally understood why Alfred seemed so upset before. And why withholding anything from him was a bad idea. “I’m sorry, Alfred. I was so caught up in what I was doing that I thought that this would just...Fix itself. It didn’t become a problem until recently. But I...I won’t keep anything from you anymore.” he nodded, moving his tail to find Alfred’s and twist with it.

Alfred smiled. “Good.” he said, and started to adjust himself more comfortably. “I know it’s a little early, but I want you to sleep.” Cuddling up close, he let go of Arthur’s hand to hold him tightly around his shoulders and waist. The cute little sleepy noise he made brought a small smile from Arthur as well, and he chuckled into the demon warmly.

The comfortable enclosure suddenly made Arthur realise how tired he really was, but he was hesitant to give into it. “The dreams, I won’t be able to sleep very well.” he explained, even though he closed his eyes. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” Alfred’s voice softened, and as he’d practiced several times to near perfection, he began murmuring sweet things very softly to Arthur. “It’s okay, Artie, it’ll be alright if you just relax. Just take it easy and close your eyes...I’m going to hold you and I won’t let go, not ever.” the resonance and tone was inexplicably calming, and Arthur’s eyelids became too heavy to lift. When Alfred began stroking his hair, Arthur became absolutely helpless.

His eyebrows furrowed grumpily. “What kind of...bloody magic…” he started to ask, losing track of his concentration. His body subconsciously moved closer, seeking the closest possible place to Alfred, and Alfred couldn’t help giggling quietly while he continued to soothe Arthur to sleep. “I...I can’t…”

“Shh...It’s okay to rest, we’re safe...I’ll never let...We’ll be...Shh…”

Alfred’s voice began to fade, until all thoughts ceased to continue.

O~o~O

“My- my lord, what is happening?” Feliciano asked confusedly when he fluttered inside.

The room’s orientation had altered, as the projections Camael seemed to observe endlessly had taken a spherical shape around the room. Feliciano recognised Arthur, despite the distortion of the image. His eyes flickered among the faint lights for awhile before he looked at Camael, who was looking up at Arthur with more effort than usual.

His shoulders were slumped, his hands that supported the magical images were tense and stiff. He was panting, which was the immediate cause of confusion. What was so tiring?

Camael spared Feliciano a glance, his face pale and shiny with a sheen of cold sweat. Though the room was dark except for the magic, Feliciano could see his eyes becoming a little more reflective and blue. “I am trying something new, child. Come closer, come see.” he invited, gesturing for the principality to approach. Feliciano did, albeit reluctantly, and came to Camael’s side while he explained. “The last time I visited Earth, I learned quite a lot. I visited leaders both present and past of an organisation known as the Central Intelligence Agency...Listened to their words and observed history according to them. I also visited psychologists, and they were very fascinating. I have used their theories and results and now I am attempting to put my own tests into effect.”

When he nodded to the projection to indicate he meant he was testing Arthur, Feliciano nodded, trying to mask his fear over an impassive facade. “What sort of tests?” he asked, trying to come off as curious and not frightened.

“The psychologists I read of and observed all had long and fascinating lists of things that can go wrong with the human brain. Mental illnesses and disorders, syndromes of all kinds. Some of them are even comparable to a demon’s Rage and an angel’s Sorrow! A lot of them were not natural, and come about because of external influences.” Feliciano struggled to understand any of what Camael was saying. “Some of those external influences are due in part to forms of human violence, which can profoundly affect and damage the way a victim reacts to anything for the rest of their lives. The Central Intelligence Agency uses forms of torture, which are known to cause such disorders in their experiments. I am attempting a more mild form.

“It is not physical in any way, but it is mental just like the...damage of it. Instead of doing something physical, I am cutting straight through to the psychological effect by penetrating Arthur’s thoughts. The only thing keeping the humans from doing the exact same thing to each other is their inability to use magic.” Camael’s small leer was evidence that he thought it amusing. “The effects so far have gotten worse over time. Arthur is sleeping less, becoming more irritable, dare I say more cruel, and less empathic. He gets flashes of fear every time he thinks of me, which I know because this sort of magic allows me very accurate emotional insight of what is going on in that head of his. It is very interesting.”

Feliciano nodded slowly, looking up to the projection. He smiled a little when he noticed it was Arthur sleeping, all curled up and nestled into that demon again. They hadn’t done that in awhile. “He is sleeping at the moment.” he pointed out. “What are you doing now?”

Camael closed his eyes for a moment, regaining his breath and murmuring some sort of magic effect under his breath. Feliciano didn’t pay much mind when the seraph’s halo flickered. “I’m scripting another nightmare.” he said. “I will allow him a couple of hours to rest, and then force the nightmare upon him. I do not know what he will do, so I am eager to see.”

Swallowing thickly, Feliciano steeled himself with a big breath. “It will be interesting to watch.” he hummed thoughtfully, having practiced such a level voice. He was becoming very good at masking what he really felt.

“Hmm, yes, it will.” Camael agreed pleasantly. “But...You do not have to be afraid, my child. Everything will be better without him in the way, I have told you several times, yes?”

The young angel made a choking sound, and his face went pale. Eyes flashing up to Camael in shocked question, he asked silently. How did he know…?

Camael turned his head and blinked serenely at Feliciano. “It is quite simple. This same magic I am using on Arthur allows me to sense what you are feeling. If I really wanted to, I could go deeper and listen to exactly what you are thinking, but I cannot yet do that without affecting you in a milder way that Arthur has. I trust you, so I would not do that to you.” he chuckled and ruffled Feliciano’s ginger hair.

Feliciano didn’t bother to mask his fear that time, and looked down at the floor, trying very hard to stop trembling. Not only could Camael, in theory, read someone’s mind, but he could forcibly control someone’s thoughts, as he was attempting to do to Arthur. “M-mind control.” he murmured quietly, realising exactly the amount of leverage Camael had, how much of a handle he had on Arthur, on them all.

The seraph smiled warmly at him. “Exactly.” he hissed coldly.

O~o~O

“Artie? Hey, Artie? Are you awake?”

The soft voice startled the sleeping angel, and he opened his eyes quickly, realising just how stiff he was. “Alfred?” he mumbled quietly, his eyes slowly sliding shut again. “How long have I slept?” He tried to turn over, attempting to calm his slightly panicked breathing. His skin was chilled, as he was covered in a cold sweat. Managing to relax on his side, he wrapped his feathery wings around his arms and legs.

He couldn’t feel Alfred near him, and frowned in confusion. There wasn’t a presence near him that he could sense. But he really needed the comfort, as he’d just woken up from a very troubling dream. His eyes still shut, he felt around to find the demon.

“You’ve been out for days…” Alfred’s voice hummed sadly, sounding oddly upset.

“Where are you?” Arthur asked, suddenly unable to get comfortable in the position he was in. The way his halo was oriented prevented him from resting his head properly, and the inside feathers of his wings were oddly, unnaturally cold. “Alfred?”

And then he could feel him, shifting up close. Immediately, Arthur relaxed with relief when he felt Alfred shift up above him. He started to open his eyes, only to sense Alfred suddenly shift closer. Before Arthur could ask what he was doing, he felt Alfred’s cool lips press delicately on his cheek.

Alfred pulled away very slowly and carefully, and then, as if he was suddenly ravenous for such intimacy, he leaned back down almost forcibly and started pressing kisses all over Arthur’s face.

The kisses made Arthur start chuckling faintly through his confusion. What was he doing? Arthur thought it was very cute, and wondered what had brought about this odd behaviour. Not that he minded. Alfred’s weight over him didn’t give him a sense of urgency at all, even if he was practically pinned down. “Alfre-?” he started to ask again, only for his lips to be captured in a very deep, very long kiss.

His question was cut off, but he was caught by so much surprise that any words were completely quelled and instead dragged out into a low moan. He was put in a blissful state, not understanding why and honestly not caring that much. Alfred’s lips moved over his with such determination and fervour, making use of Arthur’s every movement and reaction. It was like he knew exactly how to practically kiss Arthur to heaven. He’d shifted and tilted his head, and all Arthur could hear was the rustling of their clothes and the sheets, and all he could smell was Alfred all around him.

It went on for several moments before it finally clicked in Arthur’s head. How was Alfred so good at kissing him? It wasn’t like they had kissed this way before...Arthur tried to think of some excuse for it because it felt very good and he didn’t want it to stop, but no matter what he thought, nothing would explain why Alfred was kissing him and why it was so perfect.

Arthur had forgotten to breathe while he was thinking and pulled in a sharp breath through his nose. He tried to turn away because now that he was thinking, it wasn’t easy to breathe at all, but Alfred only moved further over him. Arthur couldn’t use his hands because Alfred had pinned his arms down.

He started to get a little worried, but he knew Alfred couldn’t overpower him, even if he wanted to. Shifting flat on his back and keeping his head turned one way, Arthur waited a moment before abruptly turning his head to face the other way while concentrating his balance and wrestling one arm from Alfred’s grip so he could cover his mouth. As he expected, the fast movement separated Alfred’s mouth from his, and when Alfred went to kiss him again, he couldn’t through Arthur’s hand.

Finally able to open his eyes and focus, Arthur gasped. “A...Alfred?” he asked the bruised face he could see. He became aware of a cold, slick feeling along his arm, and his eyes flickered down to see Alfred bleeding on him from an obscure wound. Looking at the red staining his tunic, it only then occurred to him to wonder when he switched into his angel form.

“Why did you do this, Arthur?” Alfred asked him sombrely, grabbing Arthur’s wrist with an unexpected strength and forcing his hand off his mouth. At his resistance, the demon’s frown deepened. “I thought you loved me.”

Arthur found that he couldn’t jerk away, and the dark room suddenly felt so much smaller and so much colder. Staying calm was becoming difficult. “You did this. You let the angels overrun Hell. You lied to me.” Alfred accused thoughtfully, his voice lacking any sort of emotion. “You were a spy all along. The army you organised was just your idea of a death camp for then the angels came. I thought you loved me.”

Alfred had pinned both of Arthur’s arms down with one hand, while the other was feeling all along Arthur’s torso inside his tunic. The sensation of the glove roughly rubbing his bare skin was weird and invasive, and Arthur squirmed uncomfortably. “Alfred, let go of me.” he tried to order sternly, but the large figure looming over him made him feel so small and frightened.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like being put down, being trapped or below. But he was powerless to the demon above him.

As his breathing rose, Alfred seemed to grow angrier. “Why would you do this to me?! Did you think we weren’t already suffering?! I thought you loved me!” His voice shook and lowered into a furious growl, and Arthur could already see his eyes becoming red. The hand in his tunic suddenly had claws, and Arthur let out a startled shriek when they ripped into him without warning.

His heartbeat elevated and he thrashed and kicked out, trying to get the Raging demon off, anything to get away. Alfred held him firmly, and managed to tear up both wings and a solid bite into Arthur’s neck before Arthur finally flailed hard enough to slip off the bed and onto the floor. He struck it hard and his head hit something.

In a dizzied panic, Arthur clutched his neck and flipped over, trying to crawl away as far as he could get. The floor hurt, somehow it was freezing and it burned Arthur’s hands and knees. But, determined to get away, he kept going. He was so scared, he couldn’t make himself breathe right and the urge to just curl up and lay on the floor was overwhelming. He was shivering too hard to move straight. The useless, bleeding and featherless limbs on his back went completely numb.

Then there was a presence behind him, a cruel presence that made his blood go cold and his entire body freeze.

He couldn’t even blink when he felt it approach, breath tickling his ear. The rush of adrenaline was so intense that Arthur almost fainted.

“Did you miss me, Arthur?” Camael whispered gently.

O~o~O

A despairing screech rang out across the Cities of Hell, startling the faint breeze and wallowing tranquility. At the same time, a loud, imposing silence fell across the Kingdom of Heaven like fog, thick enough to suffocate.

Feliciano watched the dream play out, absolutely speechless. Camael had left to “sprinkle in some real fear,” as he’d put it, meaning he was prowling around hell doing Satan’s work for all Feliciano knew. From miles and miles above, Feliciano swore he could feel chilly from the sheer fear from Arthur. It was awful, and he felt awful as well. He was helpless and powerless, doing the one thing he could; stand there and shiver, watching it all play out.

He couldn’t hear anything outside, or maybe the blood was just roaring in his ears too loudly for him to concentrate on anything else. The witness of such a horrible thing would never see the universe the same way again.

When he stepped out of Camael’s damned room later, the once gorgeous Kingdom of Heaven seemed a little bit greyer.

Down in Hell, a great distance below Heaven, sleeping demons everywhere in the vicinity briefly awoke to curse the sound, thinking nothing of it. Perhaps in their minds, it was just another demon being dragged down into a further circle to suffer for his wrongs.

In that moment, Arthur was the most vulnerable that he ever had been throughout all his time alive. He was absolutely helpless, a wailing siren that practically said “I’m here! I’m right here! Come kill me, murder me brutally for your trouble, I’m here!”

Coincidentally, the only other one who could possibly be more vulnerable than Arthur in that brief moment was the demon right there with him, hopelessly trying to calm the angel.

Shaking hands attempted to soothe him, words that lacked any sort of confidence tried to reassure him. But everything the demon did only seemed to frighten the angel more.

It got to a point where Alfred was literally chasing Arthur around the room, one fleeing out of sheer fear and the other pursuing for the same reason.

Finally, the screaming was abruptly cut off in mid-shout.

Arthur had almost jumped for it off the balcony, somehow completely forgetting he had wings. He’d struggled so hard, so roughly that he had completely wrecked his own home, and did anything he could to get away from Alfred. While it tore him apart, the demon continued to chase him, yelling, begging for him to calm down. And his curse, because he was a demon by nature, was to blame himself entirely. It was all his fault.

That was why he almost couldn’t bring himself to knock Arthur out. It physically pained him to even think of it. But it was difficult. Alfred knew he wasn’t fighting to restrain Arthur anymore; Arthur was lost somewhere in his own mind, trapped even. This was a wild animal Alfred was grappling with, the same wild animal he knew so well, only now this animal knew no control or restraint or reason. This animal could probably kill Alfred without Arthur there.

The animal stumbled outside, breathing sharply and Alfred wasn’t long after him. He was careful to fall silent while Arthur ran for the railing, and then Alfred jumped up and dove for him.

Exactly like Arthur had taught him, he forced the animal to his knees and wrapped an arm around his neck firmly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Arthur,” he chanted over and over again, whispering in the animal’s ear as gently as he could while fighting the struggle. With his eyes shut tightly, he waited, counting out the seconds as the dragged on. It felt like hours, painful, gritty hours, when finally, Arthur stopped fighting and went limp in his arms.

The demon released the angel shakily, like he was shocked that he had just committed such an act. He almost forgot to catch Arthur, so he didn’t hit his head.

His screams still rang around the demon’s head, making the silence feel like it was weighing him down. “I’m so sorry…” he murmured into Arthur’s hair, scooping him up and carrying him back inside.

With a passive but evidently upset face, Alfred smoothed out the bed and gently lay the angel back down. He looked around the room, probably thinking about picking up the mess. But, he finally settled on climbing in the bed, preparing himself to retrain Arthur for however long his unconsciousness lasted.

However, when he positioned himself over Arthur, he realised something strange.

After all that trouble, there were no tears.

O~o~O

The things that Feliciano continued to watch were horrifying.

He finally figured out that Camael’s connection to the Angelicans, especially Arthur, was through their halos. Like a remote, Camael could use the halo to control what an angel thought and felt, and he was getting closer and closer to being able to use the halo to control what an angel did, too. Feliciano feared for that day.

So, after talking it over with Francis, both of them guessed that Camael’s goal was to ultimately control Arthur completely. It was a simple conclusion, and the most logical one either of them could draw from watching so much effort be put into mind control.

Both of them hoped and prayed that Arthur would be able to resist such control if they couldn’t. And then, in a meeker, less faithful prayer, both Feliciano and Francis hoped Arthur would be able to free them all.

O~o~O

The next time the angel became self aware, it wasn’t from anything he could remember.

It was rather peaceful actually, and pleasantly slow. But once he processed the slight pressure in his arms and his waist, the memories of the dreams grazed his thoughts again. His eyes snapped open and he gasped.

“Don’t move.” Alfred growled, and the pressure tightened everywhere. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, and, with wide eyes, he started trying to struggle. The demon’s face was cold, blue eyes hard with anger. “Stay still, damn it, everything’s fine.”

Something about Alfred’s voice, low and frustrated, convinced Arthur he was dreaming again. “No, no, let me go.” he begged weakly, trying in vain to keep himself from panicking. “Al-Alfred, stop it, please, stop it-” he pleaded. But his body was failing him.

He did concede eventually, after struggling only a little. Alfred’s looming presence made his heart pound dangerously hard out of fear, and his body and mind lost all will. ‘Paranomia was broken,’ he thought, shutting his eyes tightly and awaiting pain. ‘This is what they’ve wanted all along, my surrender. And now they’ve got it.’

The cool lips upon his cheek settled it for him. This was it.

“Hey.” a soft voice alerted him, and he felt himself starting to tremble. “Artie, I’m sorry. I thought you would freak out like last time. Oh, I’m so sorry, Artie…” the arms holding him down were suddenly holding him up, cradling his quivering form.

It seemed like it wasn’t doing anything at first, because Arthur was nearly petrified with shock. But finally, he reacted. “Oh...Oh God, Alfred…” he physically sagged with relief, his shaking hands weakly grasping at Alfred. “My- my wings. I don’t know where they’ve gone. My halo is blaring, I don’t know how. R-rage…” his words dissolved into intelligible mumbles until Alfred shushed him softly.

Arthur looked up at Alfred, waiting for him to speak. “Artie, look, here are your wings.” the demon grinned at him, carefully taking one of Arthur’s delicate black wings and pulling it in Arthur’s line of sight. “You don’t have a halo right now, dude, see, you have horns. You’re a demon right now. You see your hair?” he giggled and teasingly pinched one of Arthur’s horns between his thumb and forefinger to make him feel the sensation of being moved around by the protrusion out of his head.

He appeared to notice that when he let Arthur back down on the mattress, the angel stiffened. “You dreamed about Rage, huh? I bet it was super scary. What was I doing?” Alfred asked, tilting his head innocently.

With a nervous glance down at Alfred’s position over him, and then back up to the demon’s blue eyes, Arthur swallowed thickly. “You, uh. Um. Y-you were…” he trailed off, like he was unable to stop looking down at where Alfred was.

It took an embarrassingly long while before Alfred got the hint. “...Oh.” he said quietly, frowning sadly. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Artie.”

Alfred started to move. “You didn’t actually do anything, it’s fine.” Arthur sighed, watching Alfred shift and lay beside him, not above him. “It wasn’t a normal dream. It was too eloquent, it made too much sense...Everything lined up but nothing was right, I...I was acting far too irrationally...”

“You’re telling me.” Alfred muttered to himself, but at Arthur’s ‘what was that?’ he quickly made a contemplative face. “I said that sounds weird.” he said, though Arthur had heard him.

Arthur blinked and let Alfred shift up close to him with some reluctance. “Did I...Do something?” he asked. “I don’t recall waking up at all.”

The startled expression Alfred reacted with made Arthur worried. He started to ask nervously, but Alfred shook his head. “Don’t- don’t worry about it. I’ll explain it in awhile. Tell me about your dream.”

Swallowing thickly, Arthur reluctantly let it go and tried to think of a way to put the nightmare into words. “It was here.” he murmured, glancing around. “I had just woken up and I couldn’t feel you close to me. You didn’t smell right, and when I could feel you, it just felt off. The room kept closing in on me. You, ah…” he hesitated, aware he was blushing a little bit, though he couldn’t fathom why. “You kissed me, over and over again. It got to a point where I believe you were trying to suffocate me.”

“Whoah.” Alfred’s eyes were wide.

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to think of the rest of it calmly. “When I resisted, you grew angry and accused me of lying to you. I’m not sure I understood it all, but if I remember correctly, you had described something along the lines of the Angelicans invading Hell and murdering our group because I really was their spy. You-, oh God…” Arthur sighed and shook his head, not wanting to go into too much of the sensational details. “Rage overtook you and you started attacking me. I think you tried to eat my wings or something like that. Somehow, I got away from you and fell to the floor...My wings were useless and I couldn’t move very far, I was crawling...And the-then, Camael was there. Camael had consumed you and then he was consuming me from the inside, crawling in my skin…”

Almost as if he could sense that Arthur couldn’t go on, Alfred took the angel in his arms. Arthur held him back all too eagerly. “You did wake up a while ago.” Alfred murmured in his ear, rubbing his back. “You just screamed, shrieking and screeching on and on...I couldn’t do anything. I tried everything, but when I tried to hold you down, you threw me off and started running from me.” It was then Arthur noticed the state of the place, how much of a mess it was. “We kinda wrecked everything...I guess your dream explains why you didn’t try to fly. You actually tried to jump off the balcony, but I finally managed to catch you and knock you out again.”

“I’m so sorry.” Arthur held Alfred a little tighter.

Alfred buried his face in Arthur’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”

Just the demon’s meek voice was enough to let Arthur know exactly how upset he was. He shifted his tail, remembering he was a demon again, and used the tip to stroke Alfred’s back.

At the gesture, Arthur felt Alfred smile sadly. “Artie...You, um. You said I kissed you? Why did I do that?” he asked curiously.

Arthur nodded. “You did kiss me. Se-several times. I don’t quite know why.” Arthur cut himself off before he could get too specific. He wasn’t sure how Alfred would react to hearing Arthur attempt to explain that Dream Alfred kept repeating ‘I thought you loved me.’

They laid in an awkward but comfortable silence after that for awhile. Arthur was too scared to try sleeping, and Alfred appeared totally lost in thought. A little embarrassed as well, Arthur wondered why love had become significant in the dream. Love wasn’t something he knew well, and he didn’t understand the perceived love in the dream at all. It couldn’t possibly be the love that already existed between them, nor the love that brothers and sisters shared. Arthur hadn’t been in Heaven long enough to learn of romance.

Watching Alfred intently, Arthur wondered what exactly he could possibly do that could make Alfred so wrought with despair as he had been in the dream. Obviously, it had been a world where Angelicans had invaded Hell, but Alfred seemed more concerned by the fact that he himself was personally betrayed.

It was making Arthur’s head hurt to try and figure it out. He settled on convincing himself that it wasn’t real and therefore he shouldn’t worry about it. “Alfred, we should clean up.” he said before he could wonder anymore.

Alfred stirred slightly, and his eyes blinked open. “Oh, sorry.” Arthur apologised; he hadn’t even realised Alfred had nodded off. “...How...How long had you been waiting for me to wake up?”

“Couple hours.” Alfred mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “We’ll clean up, and then I gotta go shower off.” he leaned into Arthur when he sat up for a moment, like a half-hearted hug, and then flapped his wings to get up.

Arthur realised that meant Alfred had been restraining Arthur for a very long time. “No, no, you go shower. I’ll clean up.” Before Alfred could open his mouth, Arthur hushed him with a look. “Alfred, you don’t need to clean up right now. You need to relax and go clean yourself up, alright? I’ll take care of all this.” He gestured around the room at all the mess, which wasn’t even all that bad anyway; there weren’t enough things in the room to make a big enough mess to worry about.

Alfred grinned a little in defeat, sensing this was a battle he wouldn’t win. “Okay. Just don’t let anything too crazy happen without me, yea?” he teased, turning around to head to the bathroom.

“Nothing will.” Arthur assured him, also turning to get busy.

He supposed angels had a thing for organising and cleaning; he made swift work of the place and even switched forms so he could use his big white wings to air out the place. A couple of things had broken, so Arthur used his magic to repair the shattered pieces. However, when he started to make the bed, he started to feel odd.

“Ow.” he muttered, immediately feeling irritated with the dull blaring pain in his head. Patting down the blankets more firmly than before, he angrily marched away from it, rubbing his head. Though, when he did that, the back of his hand brushed against the halo. With a yelp, Arthur ripped his hand away and looked down on the bright red burn mark on his skin. “The bloody hell?!”

His head felt like it was buzzing with pain, aching endlessly. Experimentally, Arthur reached up with both hands near the halo, and drew in a sharp, nervous breath when he could feel the heat emanating off of it. Were Arthur not suddenly so afraid, he would be able to figure out what to do. But fear took over him so suddenly, he was helpless to a wave of panic.

“Alfred?” he called out, his voice pitched higher than it should be. “A-Alfre-!”

In a brilliant flash of light, a heavy presence suddenly manifested in the room, imposing and majestic. Arthur stumbled, shielding his eyes and struggling to breath. Along with the light, his halo heated up even more and started to burn his head.

The bright light didn’t dim, and seemed to become larger and larger. Arthur was aware he had screamed, but something about him wasn’t actually scared. No, he wasn’t really scared. It was something about him that was scared. Upon realising this, Arthur recognised the feeling, the light from his halo, the presence all around the room. All in his head. “You,” he growled, steeling himself and coming to his feet.

He wasn’t afraid. He never had been, not to such a crippling level. “You’re the one who’s been doing this to me!” he shouted over the rushing wind that came because of the intruder. Immediately, he was punished with another wave of heat from above his head and a rush of adrenaline in his veins. It was powerful enough to make him feel like he weighed more than he did. Struggling to stand, Arthur covered his eyes with his hands. “This isn’t real! This isn’t what I really feel!”

“But isn’t it?” a voice replied from the light. Arthur knew that voice, and he snarled furiously. The tone was too calm for it to be spoken out loud. It had to be speaking in his mind. “You are afraid, Arthur, you can feel it. You can feel you primitive instincts kicking in, evaluating your chances for survival if you fought or if you fled.”

Arthur gritted his teeth and forcefully tried to swallow down what the voice spoke of. ‘It’s true, I am afraid.’ he thought to himself. ‘But not like this. I have fear, but not panic. There is a difference.’

Just as he thought that, the presence became less powerful, and Arthur realised it for what it was. “Arthur?! Arthur, are you okay? What’s going on?!” Arthur turned his head and peered through his hands to see Alfred rushing up to him. Gratefully, he accepted Alfred’s help standing, and then noticed that the light was having a bad effect on him. “What is that thing?!”

“Don’t look at it directly!” Arthur moved a wing in front of Alfred to shield him from his own halo, only that blocked off his own view of the demon too. “It’s a form of mind control! I believe Camael is attempting to control what I feel through my halo!”

Reaching up, he let out a pained yell when he slowly but firmly closed his hands on the halo. It burned, Hell, it burned like Arthur was grabbing fire. “Arthur, what are you doing?” Alfred immediately responded to his cry. “Y-you can’t just-! Arthur, that thing is really hot! I can feel it from here, isn’t that- that thing necessary for being an angel or something like that?!”

Arthur took deep breaths, trying to respond with something that wasn’t a shout of pain. He pushed his halo and tried to separate it from his head. “I don’t know!” he finally seethed. “But it-it can’t stay!”

He could feel Camael fighting him back, trying to scald him and overtake him with fear. But no amount of heat could make Arthur let go, and Arthur fought to maintain control and keep his head.

“I won’t let you control my feelings anymore,” he growled, wrestling even harder to get the halo off. “And I will no longer do as I am told! And I am no longer afraid to walk alone!” He felt Alfred’s arms reach around his wings and find his halo, grabbing it with as much force as Arthur. Together, they both jerked at it, trying to wrench it off his head.

With their combined efforts, Camael couldn’t seem to maintain his handle on Arthur. “Let me go! Let me be! I’m escaping from your grip!” Arthur yelled, feeling the presence lose its power over him. His courage surged forth, and the assurance of Alfred there with him made him feel braver than he’d ever been. “You will- never- own- me again!” With one last yank, Arthur fell backwards and the halo went flying from their grips.

Almost like a silent shriek, the presence hallowed, and dissipated altogether with the sound of the heavy band of useless metal striking the floor. It made a grinding sound as it spun, until it finally rolled to a stop.

Silence filled the space, Arthur laying on the floor in dazed shock and Alfred catching his breath while leaning on the nearest wall. “Whoah.” was all he could say, and Arthur agreed with a slight nod.

After a moment, Alfred stood up and walked over to help Arthur up. Both making sure the other was alright, they tried to laugh off what had just happened. Alfred even turned and went over to where the dull gold halo lay, picking it up curiously.

“Don’t do that.” Arthur said, feeling a faint thrill of nervousness when Alfred started waving it around to make sure it was definitely defective. In reply, Alfred stuck his tongue out at Arthur and held the halo over his own head.

Alfred giggled when Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s dead, dude. What do you wanna do with it?”

Sighing, Arthur turned and made his way to the bed. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

Taking the hint, Alfred flew to set the halo on a table far from the bed, and then joined Arthur to take him into a big embrace.

That night, Arthur slept better than he could ever remember.

O~o~O

“You will- never- own- me again!” With that final cry, the brilliant lights in the room abruptly went black, encasing the room in darkness and leaving only the faint memory of dancing lights to the two angels standing there.

The darkness concealed the hesitant happiness from the smaller of the two, for he expected a cry of anger. Arthur had won! He’d overthrown Camael’s power over him and freed himself!

Only, the response he got wasn’t any less excited.

“It worked…” Camael murmured, sounding shocked. “It worked! It really worked!”

Feliciano’s smile dropped as Camael’s laughter filled the room, echoing with his delighted and triumphant shouts.

Just the sound of Camael’s victorious laughter would haunt Feliciano for several moons after that. The sound only promised the destruction, and confused him even more. It was clear that even he didn’t understand what was really happening.

“God save Arthur,” he prayed that night. “Please, oh God please save Arthur!”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoah dude XD So this chapter was pretty intense!
> 
> Can I just say that I'm so excited to have used another Muse Drones song XD AHHH I LOVE MUSE DRONES SO MUCH Like I'm actually wearing a Muse shirt right now and I didn't even realise wow
> 
> Anyway! Well, I might have mentioned it before but I decided awhile ago that every single Muse Drones song will be used in Messenger :D I love The Handler a lot because it kind of reveals how defiant and powerful Paranomia is becoming, and also gives a little bit of insight into just how crazy Camael is O.o
> 
> I'll go into more detail about Drones sometime but like last chapter I'm a little pressed for time XD Track is going really well, and as a consequence I have to be a good little athlete and get enough sleep :P
> 
> **Disclaimer, I don't own Hetalia, the Bible, Muse, Linkin Park, and the cover image was drawn by Makoyana!
> 
> I love you guys, y'all are sweet and always encourage me to keep writing even when the people around me don't necessarily appreciate it. Thank you so much for being here for me! :D
> 
> ~Madz


	4. Uprising

O~o~O

The demon commanders were growing tense.

They had heard whispers and murmurs, hints that Paranomia had been spying among them from soldiers in nervous, hushed conversations and darting eyes as if they were afraid the green-eyed devil would suddenly materialise before them. Indeed, the defector had sparked a brief scare in the entire Demonocratic army.

To make it an easier thing to handle, the commanders collectively referred to their unspoken fear as Paranomia Paranoia.

The ones of the highest ranks had the luxury of private rooms, offices if you will. Sometimes they would gather there in groups, shut the door to the small room and lock it, and then express their fear in quick, secretive bursts. None of the other demons could be allowed to see their higher-ups go completely mad with terror in moments like those, of course. It would suggest weakness. So they all swore to secrecy, promising to keep quiet about these times.

Little did they know, that in those moments when they could let down their guard and admit their fears to one another, they weren’t always alone.

Sometimes, they would hear faint, dark chuckling resonating in the halls after they left, sending chills through their spines. They forced themselves to think it was just their imagination, but some part of them couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

And they were being watched, naturally. It was quite amusing, really, how all these big demons with their fancy, decorated uniforms, and their cold, serious demeanours could put so much trust in a single steel bolt to protect them from their biggest insecurity, whilst remaining unaware that they had locked themselves in a room with that very insecurity present himself.

O~o~O

The Demonocracy had decided to make its move.

Arthur knew the time to test the group had been coming, so he wasn’t unprepared. He just hadn’t expected the sheer amount of Demonocratic soldiers to show up in his lone, dark alleyway. There had to be hundreds, all armed to the teeth and strategically placed for optimal defence.

They all arrived silently, but landed heavily because of the amount of metal they carried. The dull marching sound filled the enclosed space, it’s tentativeness evidence that they were afraid. Steps into the large alcove were slow and cautious, despite the soldiers most likely having been briefed on exactly what to do countless times. They were hesitant, almost shy. It wasn’t long before their steps became uneven, not quite breaking formation but allowing themselves to be curious.

Movements were skeptical, the demons surely wondering why the alleyway was completely deserted.

The question of how exactly they had found this place would need to be answered later, but Arthur was almost sure it was because the gatherings hadn’t exactly been strictly secret; surely anyone would notice a large gathering of demons in such a small place over the period of time that they had been. It didn’t matter. They were ready to handle it.

He watched them calmly from above, perched in the furthest corner in the shadow just before the top of one of the buildings the alley was in between. They wouldn’t be able to see him unless he shifted up, because even the dull light of the moon was enough to catch his bright red hair. Gripping the stone lightly with one hand, he poised himself easily as if he were a mere fly who’d landed upon a wall, and observed without a sound. His other hand was held in a loose fist. He appeared to be alone in his hiding, but he was far from it.

Alfred was nowhere to be seen, though he knew the demon was doing exactly as he’d been told.

As if on cue, a familiar voice rang out, making Arthur’s smirk widen. “Hey, uh, guys? Where do you think he is?”

Some of the soldiers jumped in alarm, and broke formation briefly, some appearing to sag in relief at knowing they weren’t the only ones that were afraid. Arthur had to stifle a chuckle at their reaction, and at how several more demons slipped seamlessly into the army in discreet places.

Conversations began in soft murmurs, genuinely practical ones about uncovering Paranomia’s whereabouts. Most of them were initiated by the ones with inconspicuous green sashes around their waists. From so high up, Arthur couldn’t recognise any of them, and he knew even up close it would be difficult to pick them out. Most of them had dark dust marking their face, evidence of active participation in the Demonocratic objective. The soldiers didn’t even seem to notice the additions, most likely too frightened to notice anything wrong.

Arthur listened to them serenely, watching all of them creep and poke about the place. To the army, the alley looked desolate, as if it hadn’t been touched in months. The two commanders present even looked puzzled, and glided around themselves instead of hanging back like they normally would for this type of procedure. Having been...around them so much, Arthur knew that they wouldn’t have landed with the army unless they were sure it was safe. And Arthur was in no hurry to ruin that.

He was pleased to notice the commanders were Phobos and Deimos, the two who had been throwing everything they had at Arthur while he was still involved with the army. He knew many more commanders by now, but something about it being those two in particular made it that much more satisfying for Arthur.

It wasn’t long until the caution had let up almost completely, and the demons invading wandered freely about the place without any mind of potential danger. Though it was a little earlier than Arthur wanted, he didn’t mind waiting.

Patiently, he waited until the moon cast such a perfect ray that the entrance to the alley was swathed in complete darkness. It was wide open, but the shadow made the illusion that the space had been closed off. Naturally, he noticed a lot of the army shift further within his territory, subconsciously wanting to avoid the perceived barrier.

Perfect.

With a predatory gaze down at the army, he could see the green belted demons preparing as well. All he had to do was give the signal.

Pressing a kiss to his gloved fist, Arthur then let it open, and blew gently into his palm. That and the faint breeze caught onto the delicate, torn remains of a light green silk, which could be recognised as the same as the belt several demons were wearing. Arthur knew only a few would notice it, which was why it was the best signal to use.

He knew for a fact the demon that mattered the most to him would be watching for it carefully. As he expected, he soon heard Alfred’s voice from the middle of the army. A startled yelp, and then a loud “Mmmph!”

Arthur grinned. Alfred had been working on his acting.

At the sound of distress, several demons turned to see him fall to the ground, a piece of red tape slapped over his mouth and the same red tape binding his wrists. Alfred was yelling, struggling against an invisible force, and soon the same thing was happening to a couple more of the green belted demons at uneven intervals.

Like dominos, the panic spread and the army went into a frenzy.

“Paranomia is here!” they yelled. “He is among us! Find him! Where is he?” Some started to get jumpy, looking around wildly. Others tried to free the green belted demons from the red tape. The ones like Phobos and Deimos were clutching their weapons close to them, as if knives and metal poles were their only consolation for being faced with Paranomia.

Arthur then made his move, letting himself fall from the wall and glide deftly over them, unnoticed in the darkness. He supposed it was cheating for him to use his magic to create a chill as he flew past, and to amplify his voice as he spoke, but no one had to know that.

“I see you have come to visit me.” he murmured thoughtfully, his words acting as a silencer for all panicking below him.

They still couldn’t see him, the Demonocrats whipping their heads around wildly like flags flapping in the wind because they couldn’t determine where his voice was coming from, as it had bounced off all the walls. The green belted demons continued their struggle against the red tape that they had trapped themselves in, until they had been freed by other demons around them. Some of them had sneakily trapped demons without belts, but had made it so they couldn’t escape without help from another, who would have to disarm himself first. The silly soldiers had rendered themselves practically immobile with the amount of weapons they carried.

Grinning, Arthur crossed his arms and hovered high above them. The moon still allowed for a dark shadow to conceal him, so he could use his illusions to further the panic knitted neatly into the invading party. “How considerate of you to think of me during these dark times. Though, you should know I don’t take kindly to uninvited guests...” he murmured lowly, his voice resonating deeply and thinly and loudly and quietly, physics making all sorts of effects take place. It sounded like he was swimming through them, like a ghost taking his time haunting the crowd.

Some scattered, and, as he thought, they tended to go for the deeper area of the alleyway instead of their clear route of escape that was shrouded by the moon’s cold shoulder. Even Phobos and Deimos were backing away further in the trap, their subconscious just as vulnerable as anyone else’s to fear. It was just as Arthur expected, if not more. Only a few realised the one route of escape, but even they were too panic-stricken to think to tell everyone else.

Arthur waited until the majority of the demons were bound by tape, and chuckled lowly at how they still didn’t seem to realise he wasn’t the one trapping them. How long did it have to go on before they noticed it was the demons with the green belts?

He decided not to let them know that.

“Now,” he murmured, flying closer to the stumbling crowd, stumbling away from where his voice resonated. “You have a choice. I could...Kill you here, sparing you from a death further on, probably on the front lines. You know how it is. Angels and demons collide, inevitably there will be death.” Arthur landed and shrugged, rubbing his chin as he was revealed to them. He stepped into the moonlight, not unaware of the collective gasp. Surely, the mere image of him, pale skin, red hair, green eyes, scared the hell out of them. Just as Arthur thought he was being full of himself, he opened his eyes to see expressions of sheer horror. Not too far off, after all. “Or,” he added carefully, letting his accent drag out the word. “Or, I could spare you from my hand, and let you go to warn the others. You know who I speak of, the others in your army.” he grinned, approaching them and watching serenely as they continued to back away.

Making a show of the offer, like the subject was a game, Arthur held out his arms and raised his eyebrows. “Your choice! End it later or end it now, it makes no difference to me.”

One right behind the other, Phobos and Deimos were brought to him, Ludwig and Ivan hauling them forth. Kicking their knees, the two green belted demons forced the commanders to kneel, while Arthur leveled them with just a stare. His chin raised, he didn’t even look remotely surprised to see them.

They glared, oh they scowled as best as they could with the rope tied their mouths. But all they got was an amused smile from Arthur. “Before you make your choice,” he continued, talking to the others of the army and ignoring the commanders. “Allow me to explain.”

That was when the army finally realised they were surrounded on all sides. Above, in front, and there was no behind. Arthur could barely hold back a grin at the different expressions that played across their faces once they figured it out. And they couldn’t even fight back because they had no idea how many there were. He wouldn’t have said it, but the Demonocrats greatly outnumbered his own, which was why he was glad Demonocratic soldiers could hardly recognise their own.

“All this time, you have all served loyally to your army. I would assume so, anyway, seeing as you’ve all come here to capture me. Quite an admirable effort, really.” at his words, he paced back and forth in front of the commanders, until Alfred fluttered forward. With a quiet snicker at the Demonocrat’s frightened and eager nods, he joined Arthur up front and leaned casually against his shoulder. Arthur spared him a small, genuine smile, before returning to leering at the army before him. “Perhaps you should consider questioning the reasons for which you have come here. Did it never occur to you to...Wonder why, exactly, you take orders and follow them?”

He was confusing them. They watched the pair up front skeptically, and both Arthur and Alfred shared a knowing look.

Opening his mouth, Arthur smirked with his arms crossed. “The paranoia is in bloom,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Your superiors have lied to you with their silence. They have kept you dumbed down by feeding you with hatred, which acts as a sort of drug that keeps you from seeing the truth. They give you promises, make scenes out of battles with the Angels, when really…”

Trailing off, Arthur signaled Alfred with a jerk of his head. With a pleasant grin, Alfred nodded, and stalked forward to the commanders.

“All they’re trying to do is get green belts wrapped around our minds…” As Arthur continued, Alfred untied the silk from his waist and promptly tied it around Phobos’s head, just enough to cover his eyes. “...And use their endless red tape to keep the truth confined.” Just as Ludwig tied his belt around Deimos’s head, both he and Alfred untied the ropes around the commander’s mouths only to put red tape over them, making the tape shape into a neat ‘X.’

Now unable to see or speak, the commanders both began to growl lowly, from deep in their throats. Arthur moved forward silently, coming around behind them and carding his hand through Deimos’s dark, coarse hair. Such a demeaning gesture made the demon’s growling reverberate loudly, aggressively. Glancing down approvingly, Arthur then looked up to the trembling army, who watched their leaders be humiliated with slight horror.

“Now, what do you say we change that?” he asked with a sneer.

O~o~O

“You wouldn’t have actually killed them, right?”

After a long period of silence during the flight, the sudden question mildly startled the group. Arthur looked over to Alfred flying along beside him. Ivan, Basch, Ludwig, Yao, and Elizaveta were with them, heading to the Nkri Graveyard to check for any changes. They were all rather fatigued from their little skit towards the Demonocrats, but they had been the ones to volunteer to go with Arthur, so he trusted they would be well enough to make it there and back.

At first, Arthur wasn’t sure what Alfred had meant, but then he remembered his chilling threat towards the invading troops. “You have a choice. I could...Kill you here, sparing you from a death further on, probably on the front lines. You know how it is. Angels and demons collide, inevitably there will be death. Or, or, I could spare you from my hand, and let you go to warn the others. You know who I speak of, the others in your army.” Arthur returned his gaze up front with a heavy sigh, unsure of how to answer.

With only the sound of wings flapping, Arthur could still feel all of the demon’s stares, all of them watching him with curiosity. Of course, the answer would mean more to Alfred than any of them, as the rest of them didn’t know he was an angel. Him killing wouldn’t have been as significant to them. Regardless, they all still wanted to know.

Finally, he let out a heavy breath, but hesitated to answer. “I don’t know.” he murmured quietly.

Alfred gave him a look that Arthur only caught from the corner of his eye, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It looked slightly shocked and almost afraid.

No one breathed a word for the rest of the trip, and Arthur felt oddly like it was because they were too nervous to. It confused him to no end.

Even when they finally got to the graveyard, they seemed to shy away from him just slightly. Arthur tried to ignore it and instead focus on keeping himself warm over the sudden chill. This place seemed to be colder than the city, which was odd. But, when the other demons had turned their backs, Alfred approached him and quickly rubbed his arms to keep him warm.

“Thank you.” he muttered lowly to him, walking past Alfred when Ivan started to turn around. As he strode forward, the others began to turn to look at him as well, awaiting orders. Arthur met eyes with all of them. “Let’s go. Check around for any odd patterns. Last time I was here, the rock the demons’ graves are on were brittle, so be careful not to disturb them too much.”

At his instructions, they all split up in different directions. The place was huge, after all, and Arthur suddenly was grateful he had all of them with him, otherwise he might never get through the entire place.

All was quiet for a while. Arthur flew up high, towards where the higher-ranked and leveled angels and demons were buried. Elizaveta wasn’t far away; she was picking at a place with a thin layer of fog slightly below a sort of cliff made by clouds and jagged rock. He thought nothing of it, and got to work looking at the gravestones.

Arthur walked past with a respective air, quietly acknowledging the names of the fallen and briefly coming to a state of sonder by each one. He always did; even after all of his time as a demon, he never could forget what had been so deeply ingrained into him for years. He had learned to feel so much and be able to process it all. The only thing was, he was beginning not to feel everything so deeply. With each name, he was not plunged into a universe so distinct and new from the one he knew. He simply gazed into the power of potential and then let it go. It was like he was simply unconcerned anymore, and Arthur wasn’t quite sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

He sighed, accidentally passing a few graves without actually reading the names. He tried to direct his attention to them again, only to narrow his eyes. His slow stepping came to a halt in front of one grave. The name just read Mark. That wasn’t what Arthur was concerned with; instead, he slowly turned and approached the slab of white marble, until he was close enough to touch it.

His finger delicately traced the top of the grave, and behind it, was left a trail of pure white, the actual colour of the stone. Arthur looked at his gloved finger and observed the pale grey dust.

“That’s odd.” he murmured to himself, brushing off his hand. Whenever he’d come here, there was never even a speck of dirt on any of the graves.

Just then, he heard a loud rumbling noise and a startled yelp to go with it, and he whipped his head up. “Elizaveta?” he called, jumping up and taking flight. Flapping his wings urgently, he turned around a corner to where he last remembered seeing the demon. “Elizaveta?! Are you alright?!” he couldn’t see; the area she’d been in was completely filled up with dark grey dust. He assumed the cliff she’d been near had collapsed, which made him wonder how brittle exactly the rock had gotten at this point.

He flew in, shielding his eyes from the thick clouds of dust and looking around for Elizaveta. “Oi, where are you? Elizaveta-?”

“I’m here! I’m here, I’m fine…” he heard Elizaveta answer and he turned in the direction of her voice. He finally discovered her trying to stand and brushing bits of rock off her. Arthur landed and immediately helped her up, making sure she wasn’t injured. “N-no, really, I’m fine, I-”

“Look at me.” Once Arthur was done checking her over, he looked into her eyes, gently taking her forearms to keep her steady and close. “Did you hit your head? Your eyes look alright. Are you hurt anywhere? Take a deep breath, alright?”

She complied, taking a slow, shaky breath in, and then letting it out. “I…” she swallowed thickly. “I think I’m okay. I’m just a little startled. That’s all.” she managed a weak smile at him.

Arthur nodded along with her, and then turned to lead her out of the area. “Let’s go, then, before something else happens. This isn’t good, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out. If you’re okay, we can keep going, but I’d rather you stayed with someone. Even if it’s me, I don’t care, as long as you’re safe.”

Elizaveta cast him a wry look. “What, you think I can’t take care of myself?” she asked.

“Er, no, that’s not it at all.” Arthur frowned. “I think you’re very capable. It’s just, well, I don’t think I could afford to lose you, and you’re female, so-”

That was the wrong choice of words. She had only been teasing, he realised, but now there was a slight flash of resentment in her eyes just from hearing that. “Yes, I am female.” she said slowly, once Arthur fell silent at his mistake. She started shrugging off his hands, and walking herself. “I thought you of all people could respect that.”

He could see her anger and wanted to cringe. However, he didn’t have time to rectify it before he heard a low rumbling. Both of them froze, eyes locked in fear.

Then, they both looked up, where they could barely see through the settling dust, the rest of the cliff was finishing its collapse.

Arthur was the first to react. “RUN!” he yelled, grabbing her hand and taking off, both of them fleeing in a clumsy frenzy. He was calculating, trying to figure out the best way to escape, but every option led to them getting crushed because the distance to safety was too far for them to make it in time. So he just tried to go as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, Elizaveta was still mad at him. “I can fly myself!” she snapped at him, taking her hand away. Arthur then conveniently remembered he was actually an angel, and could fly a lot faster than she could, regardless of biological advantages. He cursed.

There wasn’t anything he could say to her while they were flying, so he forced himself to slow down to keep pace with her, but he wanted nothing more than to grab her and get the hell out of there. The giant cliff seemed to fall faster and faster, catching them off guard.

Distantly, Arthur could hear unintelligible cries from the others for them, wondering what was going on. He didn’t waste his breath trying to warn them because he trusted their judgement, but he did risk a look over his shoulder.

Of course, a boulder big enough to crush the both of them was headed in their projected direction. Arthur let out a slightly louder curse. It was chaos, but he fought for a way to think as clearly as possible. Something drove him to drop back behind Elizaveta slightly, and then maneuver above her so he could get a grip under her arms and fly her along faster.

She tried to squirm at first, and Arthur couldn’t quite hear himself over the loud rumbling but he must have said something a little harsh about being ridiculous in a life-or-death situation because she stilled and let him lead her. He took a chance and changed direction a little, just to be out of the path of that big boulder. Along the way, weaving through falling rocks, Arthur got hit and he tried to do his best to protect Elizaveta. The rocks that hit him almost sharply knocked him off balance, but Elizaveta helped keep him up, even when he let out a grunt at getting hit in the back.

Elizaveta probably realised they were going a lot faster and worked with him, trying to up their speed by adding her own. When they worked together like that, it wasn’t long before the dust cleared and Arthur guessed it was safe to slow down. He turned around to check, and didn’t see anymore flying stones.

Not unlike the cliff, they both collapsed on top of a cloud, skidding a slight distance. They held still for just a moment, both trying to process the excitement. Arthur finally let Elizaveta go, and they both lay there, panting for a moment to recover.

They finally found the energy to at least look at each other, and at first it was just a blank stare, but soon they were both laughing a little. Arthur knew they were both breathless and shaken, but they were laughing.

“Elizaveta.” he coughed, getting her attention. “About what I...What I said earlier. I am sorry. Yes, you are female, but I don’t think any less of you. The urge to, ah...To help you more and protect you, is just that; an urge, or an instinct rather. I think all males feel that towards females.” he tried to explain, wincing when he shifted and felt a scrape on his shoulder sting.

As if on cue, whether it was for the better or worse, Elizaveta opened her mouth to warn him of something, something coming fast, and suddenly Arthur found himself diving on top of Elizaveta and getting nailed in the back with a rock the size of his head.

A moment passed of him seething in pain while looking down at his chest and Elizaveta staring up at him, stunned. “...Like that?” she asked quietly, and Arthur answered with a grimace and low groan.

“Hey! Arthur, Elizaveta, are you alright?” Ludwig and Basch appeared in front of Arthur, and Ivan was close behind them. They all started to check them over, and tried to get Arthur on his feet.

Before they could help him up, Arthur waved them off as best as he could and mumbled for them to check if Elizaveta was alright first. He couldn’t quite hear their replies, instead trying to focus on breathing slowly and calmly. He felt he couldn’t show that he was hurt, he couldn’t show them vulnerability like this. He had to be the strong one, and it didn’t even occur to him to wonder why he felt that way.

Luckily, before he had to worry too much about it, a familiar scent enveloped his nostrils and he heard a familiar voice to go with it.

He looked up to see that Yao had joined the other three demons who were helping Elizaveta, and, still on his hands and knees, he turned his head to see Alfred looking over his back in concern just beside him. “You okay, Artie?” Alfred asked him quietly, so the others wouldn’t hear.

“Don’t call me Artie.” Arthur muttered, earning a relieved smile. Alfred knew he was okay when he got a little defencive. “I think I’ve been hit on my back more than once.”

Alfred’s smile faded slightly, and with a little more urgency than before, his eyes flitted over his back while a hand gently felt for injuries. He must have found more than he’d hoped, because Arthur noticed his eyebrows crease. “This doesn’t look good. There aren’t any tears in your jacket, so I can’t heal you without taking off your uniform. But I can feel swelling.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You know I don’t care if you take off my uniform. Though, the others might. I’m not sure we can get away without making them suspicious.”

Beginning to help him to his feet, Alfred let out a quiet sigh. “Yea, but...I care if I take off your uniform.” he mumbled. “I’m not used to see-seeing you, uh, you know…” he trailed off, saying something inaudibly. Arthur swallowed back a yelp of pain once he was standing, and stared right at Alfred’s chest so the other demons wouldn’t see his wide eyes.

At Arthur’s silence, Alfred shifted uncomfortably. “I think we could get the others to help if you’re really hurt. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine!” Arthur snapped quietly. “We can’t tell them I’m hurt.” he tried to glare, but the effect was ruined when the fast movement of looking up at Alfred caused a lightning bolt of pain to jolt up his spine, making his expression twist with pain.

Alfred narrowed his eyes slightly. “Now’s not the time to be prideful, Artie.” he argued, but then appeared to realise what he’d said might have been the wrong thing. “U-uh, I mean it wouldn’t be the end of the world to tell them something’s wrong…?” he grinned nervously at Arthur’s scowl.

Letting out a sigh, Arthur shook his head with a pained wince. “It just...No. I can’t tell them.” the other demons were still talking amongst themselves, but were starting to glance over in their direction curiously. Elizaveta appeared to be fine, uninjured at least. She gave Arthur a look as if to ask if he was alright, and he nodded to her.

The argument wasn’t going to turn out any other way. “Alright, fine.” Alfred huffed, but he was smiling. “C’mon, we’ll slip away for just a bit and then we’ll come back to finish up.”

They both headed away discreetly, Arthur limping and Alfred making sure no one saw them leave. Meandering about, they took a complicated path to a dark, well masked place where the clouds were too thick for them to be easily spotted. Almost immediately after they found the place, Arthur easily took off his jacket and shirt and let Alfred heal him up.

When they finally returned, no one seemed to have missed them. Ivan and Ludwig were discussing something with Basch, who was pointing at a gravestone while Yao and Elizaveta were taking a closer look. In fact, they barely looked up to acknowledge the two.

Alfred looked curious as to what was so fascinating, but Arthur had a good guess. “A thin layer of dust is covering all the graves, angels and demons alike. I don’t recall it being like this before.” Ludwig was saying. “Something strange has happened here, someone has desecrated this place.”

“Maybe not just someone.” Arthur supplied. “A whole cliff just collapsed. Perhaps the dust is evidence of it happening before? I doubt this could all be the work of one person. It has to have been a group, or it could be the Graveyard itself reacting to something. Shrines like this can be sensitive to events; perhaps something is causing it to destroy itself.”

Arthur could almost see the lightbulb go off in their heads.

Basch nodded slowly. “I forgot about the possibility of magic. This is graveyard is a mix of demons and angels, there’s bound to be more magic here than what we see in Hell.”

And he was right. Arthur could feel all the magic pulsing through the Nkri Graveyard, both light and dark. There was definitely a notable change from the amount of magic he usually felt.

They all shared understanding nods with one another for a moment. “Y’all don’t think there’s much we can do for it, then? I mean, this place is where angels and demons could potentially meet in peace, right?” Alfred asked curiously. “That is, if there were ever a need to.” Arthur remembered with a slight pang of sadness how happy he’d been when they originally found this place, where he first realised he had an ally, too. He looked around sadly, wishing absentmindedly that recent events hadn’t troubled the graveyard so much. But, he supposed, at the moment, his anger towards the angels was too much for him to be willing to be diplomatic.

Elizaveta and Yao joined the group, who’d gone silent in thought. But Arthur eventually murmured, “Perhaps it’s for the best.”

O~o~O

The military base had quite a time after the attempted invasion on Paranomia’s territory.

After the failed attack, the Demonocratic soldiers acted odd and rebellious towards Phobos and Deimos, and by the time they had flown into the base, the two commanders were holding back a riot. They struggled to fly and keep the soldiers in line, but it became more and more clear that the attempts were futile. It escalated so much that no amount of authority could hold them back. All twenty commanders couldn’t manage to unite their strength enough to contain them.

Something Paranomia had said had inspired something in them, some resisting spirit that had long ago been put to sleep when they were enlisted. The defector’s words awoke the monster that was resistance. The demon’s power to defy and to disobey was simply too much for the higher ups, and their sheer anger and resent led them to destroy everything in their path.

The commanders could only watch as the base burned, echoing with defiant screeches and collapsing where the demons gutted the building.

“This is just unfair.” Deimos muttered, crossing his arms while they all hovered high above the destruction. “This isn’t- this isn’t how you fight a war.”

Phobos and a few others looked at him, startled after regarding the base for such a long period of silence. “What do you mean?” Phobos asked, furrowing his brows.

Deimos opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by chuckling. Every single eye turned towards the amused commander, seeming simultaneously curious as to what was funny and angry that he could be laughing at a time like this. He was the tallest of commanders, the most easygoing and arguably the most frightening because of that.

Julius shook his head, gazing mirthfully over the remains of the base. “Commander Deimos means this isn’t just any sort of revolt, this is Paranomia’s version of an attack. War isn’t fair, I’m afraid. Not real war, anyway.” he shrugged.

The other’s eyes flashed with anger. “Are you implying we haven’t ever fought in a ‘real war?’” one demanded, clenching his fists. No doubt, a brief history of the centuries of ‘war’ between the Demonocrats and the Angelicans was on the tip of his tongue, but Julius didn’t humour him.

“Let us go to the nearest base.” he said easily, as if he were simply talking about going on an easy flight around the city instead of regrouping all of their work entirely. “We can’t exactly stay here. Don’t worry, we’ll get our instructions soon. We can worry about Paranomia’s attack once we have loyal Demonocrats at our command again.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, it's been forever XD I gotta say, this chapter was hard as hell to write :O
> 
> To catch up on some stuff, school finally let out for the summer and my birthday just past :D Among various other stuff, I've been relatively busy with running and keeping in shape. My school had a thing for their summer training program and I think I was on the news?? Idk I'm still trying to find out XD
> 
> Anyway, for this chapter I used a song everyone knows! I feel like I can't get away without using this song in Messenger XD So I used it for this one, where Paranomia somehow gets the base to burn down to the feet of Demonocratic defectors! :D
> 
> Uprising is probably Muse's biggest hit ever, even above Starlight and Mercy and Madness and stuff. I guess it's overplayed, but I've always regarded this song with a lot of respect. If Muse can be defined in any way, it has to be through Uprising, or another song beside it called The Resistance(Which is actually the reason the arc is called the Resistance XD) I mean, seriously, what better way to describe Muse than through a song about defying your oppressors XD
> 
> So a lot of things are happening and a lot more things are coming. But hopefully, since it's summer, I'll be back working hard on this :D
> 
> Be sure to check out my writing blog on Tumblr, @Messenger-of-Innocence :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, Linkin Park, the bible, or Jupiter's Moons XD
> 
> The cover image was drawn by Makoyana!
> 
> Hopefully I'll be back soon :')
> 
> ~Madz


	5. Ruled By Secrecy

O~o~O

The night passed without much incident.

Demons shrieked and roared in triumph, dancing and beating around the burning Base. After the Commanders had left, the soldiers finished their work on making sure the Base was damaged beyond repair. The demons that hadn’t been to invade Paranomia’s territory were confused, but they were carried away by the excitement of destruction and didn’t care for reason. What kind of demon would heed their leaders when all around them was fire and screaming and everything that could possibly appeal to their wild side?

Their sheer inability to be controlled led to things more typical of a demon and true to their nature. A few unfortunate souls in the wrong place at the wrong time asked questions and ended up being fuel for the fires.

Flesh and bone ended up being excellent feed for a fire that big, after all.

The chilling screams of both the liberated and the lost rang around the region, catching the interest of several more nearby. It wasn’t long before an alarming amount of demons ran free around the area, and as a consequence, it became dangerous to approach.

O~o~O

“Are you sure you wish to go on this mission, young one?”

“I am sure, my Lord.”

“Pray, do explain why you would wish to go on such a risky investigation? You do understand how dangerous it is.”

“Of course I do. I simply wish to contribute more to the Angelican objective.”

“...”

“...Sir?”

“...Good, good, yes, very good, my child.”

“Hnn.”

“You have such a cute smile. You should smile more often.”

“O-oh...Thank you...My Lord.”

“Remember to be careful. I need you here to continue assisting me in monitoring the progression of the plan.”

“Of course.”

“Take the salt. It will protect you if anything goes wrong. I can expect a full report from you when you return?”

“Aye, sir.”

O~o~O

‘Aping my soul…’

A soft breeze gently disturbed the space, carrying along the faint tinkling noise of harps in the distance. Arthur’s hair stirred from it, and he opened his eyes just slightly at the familiar sensation. It was soothing enough to almost put him right back to sleep.

Instead, he processed what was happening, and opened his eyes.

Blue. Blue was all he could see.

The same shade of gorgeous blue that had haunted his dreams for...what felt like years.

‘You stole my overture…’

Letting out an awed breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, Arthur blinked once and lowered his gaze as he sat up, trying to take in the rest of his surroundings. The vast landscape...He was sure he’d never seen it before, but something about it was achingly familiar.

‘Of course.’ he thought, letting out a startled, disbelieving laugh. He was in Heaven. He was home.

The silhouettes along the horizon were cathedrals within the main part of God’s Kingdom of Paradise, Arthur was certain of it. He could see various shrines from where he was, when he abruptly brought himself to a stand, and the clouds were as white and fluffy as he remembered.

Arthur hadn’t been this warm in too long. He quickly glanced down at himself once he realised that, and noted that he was in his natural, angelic form. After a moment, he became overwhelmed with the familiar scents and sounds all around him, and covered his face to collect himself.

‘Trapped in God’s program…’

Slowly taking his hands from his face, Arthur forced himself to take a deep breath and look around once more. There was no way this was real. But...Arthur had to calm himself down when his breathing became heavy, his mind unable to wrap itself around what he was seeing and his body wanting nothing more than to collapse and weep for sheer joy. It was taking him a few moments to come to terms with what he was looking at; muscles had delayed responses and he spent more time than he meant to just staring at everything.

But...Was this real?

Had they taken him back? After all he had done to defect them and the demons... Did they pull him out of Hell and put him back home? Was that what this was? He turned, half expecting to see Alfred there beside him, looking around in just as much awe, but found that the demon was not there. Of course he wasn’t. He couldn’t be, could he?

Then...Why was Arthur there? He had wronged just as much, if not more than a demon could, hadn’t he? Was this all a dream? Had he conjured up a universe in his head where angels could not be trusted in his sleep, and suddenly woken up?

Or...Was this a dream?

Was he so desperate for warmth and comfort that he had dreamed of Heaven?

‘Oh, I...Can’t...Escape…’

The voices, they had been faraway before, but now they seemed to be getting louder...Someone was there, someone was yelling, lots of people were yelling for him or at him, he didn’t know, but they were there and he was-

“What do you mean, ‘everyone’s gotta hide in here?!’ Come on, man, this isn’t exactly a safe haven! What the hell is going on?!”

Arthur abruptly woke to yelling and bustling and the noise of a lot of demons around, and groaned. His eyes wouldn’t stay open, but he had no intention of getting up quite yet. The dream was slowly being forgotten, and he vaguely could remember that he hadn’t gotten much time to rest. “Alfred, tell them to go away. I need some more sleep.” he mumbled, not sure if the demon was close enough to hear.

The activity didn’t stop, and suddenly Arthur was very grateful for the large curtain Alfred had hung up to separate the bed and the balcony. At least no one could see him struggling to wake up.

He growled when the stomping of boots wouldn’t stop and the incessant chatter kept on going, and going...So many people were in the room on the other side of that curtain and he had to let out a slow breath, trying to collect himself.

There were lots of voices that he couldn’t be bothered to recognise. “Something’s happened, okay? We don’t think anywhere else is safe. This kind of thing, we have to ride it out! We can’t get caught up in it.” someone was saying, and Arthur seethed, starting to get up. “The entire region is being razed, we came because-”

“Look, dude, I told you. Y’all can’t come in here. I know, I- I know, I heard you. But you gotta listen to me, Arthur’s asleep, or at least trying to be, and he’s not gonna be happy when he wakes up. No. No no no no no, you don’t understand. The guy is freakin’ terrifying when he hasn’t slept. Listen to me! You- you don’t wanna do tha-”

“ALFRED?! ALFRED, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

A sound which Arthur assumed to be Alfred yelping was the last noise before the entire room went silent. All of the demons were staring at Arthur after he’d shoved aside the curtain, and he stared right back. His hands were shaking slightly and he could hardly keep his eyes open to maintain the bleary glare he had on all of them, breathing short and fast, but he made a sort of half-snarl at them anyway. He looked furious.

Before anyone could move, one demon spoke up. “Arthur, you look awful. What happened to you?”

Another beat of silence passed, before Arthur turned his head to look at her, attempting to take a deep breath. Someone accidentally snorted out loud, but quickly covered it with a straight face before Arthur could really be angry about it.

Luckily, Alfred darted toward him and held up a hand to everyone else. “Shut up, j-just shut up you guys,” he said to all of them, before turning and gently taking Arthur’s arms. “Hey, hey buddy, it’s okay. I’ll take care of it. You go back to sleep, it’s fine.” he smiled sweetly, trying to turn Arthur around back towards the bed.

Arthur wouldn’t have it. He started to resist, wrinkling his nose and turning back towards the crowd of demons. “Oi, I said I want to know what the hell is-”

“Yea, yea, I know. I know, it’s okay. I’ll find out and tell you later. Okay? Just lemme take care of this, you go back to sleep.” Alfred grinned nervously at the group before hurrying Arthur to bed. In a flurry of movement, Alfred had ushered Arthur out of sight and Arthur was almost pulling Alfred along with him. As soon as the curtain dropped behind them, Alfred let out a sigh of relief, and so did Arthur. They both relaxed almost immediately, with Alfred letting out a dramatic groan. “Oh, man, thanks dude. You have no idea how stressful that was. You never yelled Operation Tsunami, though.” he grinned jokingly.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur smiled wryly. He no longer looked tired at all. “What good would that have done? Besides, I’m sure we know well enough when to get each other out of, er, iffy situations. Anyway, what’s going on? I was actually sleeping, you know.” he paused for a moment, then shrugged. “Was.”

Alfred grimaced. “Sorry.” he apologised, and rubbed the back of his head. “Something’s happened. Someone said something about the Base being destroyed? I’m not exactly sure yet. I still have to talk to them to find out. From what I know, the group high-tailed it over here so they wouldn’t get caught up in the destruction.”

“Ah.” Arthur crossed his arms, nodding along like he understood. But then he shook his head abruptly. “Come again?”

Blinking, Alfred tilted his head at Arthur, before it finally hit him. “Oh. Right. Duh, haha, sorry. Okay, so, the thing about demons? We- uh, they- really like destruction. Like, a lot. Even if it’s like our own property or whatever, we kinda become primitive or something and keep it going. Something feral and wild like that can’t really be controlled, so I think they were trying not to let themselves be exposed to it.” he suddenly stopped for a moment, and then started laughing quietly, making Arthur frown. “Pfft, sorry. That’s just...Wow. You wanna know how loyal they are to you? They resisted demon nature. That’s like telling your God to stick it.”

Arthur nodded slowly, and raised his eyebrows. “...Interesting.” he murmured to himself. But then, like something had hit him from clear across the room, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“...What?” Alfred frowned in concern. “What, what is it, what?”

Shaking his head, Arthur gestured around, his mouth forming silent words in an attempt to explain. The longer it went on, the more he seemed to put together. “I- ah- er, the- the Base. It was destroyed. Why?” before Alfred had the chance to say he didn’t know, Arthur kept going. “The army that invaded yesterday. They came, we chased them off, with their tails practically between their legs. They were terrified because we humiliated their leaders, and I threatened to kill them. What did I tell them after that? I told them that they are all caught in a web of lies.”

There was no stopping Arthur on a tangent like this. Alfred could only try to keep up. “I- I explained to them and reasoned why they should believe me, and I made them question their leader’s motives. What did that do? It made them question their trust towards Phobos and Deimos, their commanders in that moment. Where did they go when we chased them off?”

“The Base,” Alfred gasped, the realisation hitting him.

Arthur nodded vigorously, his eyes sharp and his expression eager. “The Base! When Phobos and Deimos couldn’t answer their questions, when they foolishly refused to even attempt to correct what I had done, or maybe they didn’t even realise it, I don’t know, they revolted!” he let out a shocked laugh. “The army that invaded us started a riot and from there it couldn’t be stopped! And now the entire Region is in disorder…”

Trailing off, Arthur looked up when Alfred started laughing, a cute little giggle escalating to a full scale fit of laughter. He laughed so hard he was shaking, and had to stumble over to a wall to keep from falling. Arthur watched, unable to hold back a slowly growing grin at the sight. “You burned the Base down, Artie!” Alfred laughed hysterically. “You scared them so much that you burned the Base down!”

They were making a lot of noise, Arthur realised. But he didn’t really care, even though the demons still present in the room were bound to wonder what was going on. Sure enough, the curtain was drawn back just a little bit to reveal Basch and Ludwig, who saw Arthur holding Alfred steady as he came down from his mirthful outburst. As he giggled into Arthur’s shoulder, hugging him back tightly, Arthur glanced over to the demons and shrugged slightly. ‘I’ll explain later,’ he mouthed.

Eventually, Alfred calmed down enough that they could come out and successfully explain the whole ordeal to the group. Arthur lost the whole sleepy act and took charge, saying that the group could stay there so long as they kept quiet. In a while, he and Alfred and a few others, whom of which he trusted for their self control, would go around to check if the region was safe. Perhaps these rebel demons could add to Arthur’s army, once they calmed down, at least. That was the plan that stood, before Arthur promptly went back behind the curtain to try and go back to sleep.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t.

Alfred sat with him while he mulled over what he just realised. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen; sure, a revolt of some kind, but not something immediate and massive as the complete demolition of the Base! Arthur hadn’t realised his little speech would resonate so deeply with the invading army. He figured that would only take a small toll on the Demonocracy, perhaps over time there would be some very subtle fraying at the threads of the Base, but not something so abrupt, so largescale. There just wasn’t anything he could say or do about it; he’d gone farther than he’d intended.

Gingerly resting his head against Arthur’s shoulder, Alfred let his tail flop around and play around with Arthur’s. “What are we gonna do now?” he asked quietly. He pouted slightly and lowered his eyebrows worriedly, like he could feel Arthur’s internal conflict. Then, like he’d done since their incident with the halo, he softly added “What are you feeling?”

Arthur combed back his red hair, and then let the hand rest on top of Alfred’s head. His fingers thoughtfully stroked over the ridges of Alfred’s horns, and he let out a very deep sigh before he could word his response. “I don’t...I...I’ll figure something out.” he murmured, glancing up towards the blank ceiling. “I feel confused and surprised. But I’m not...I’m not worried, if that’s what you mean.”

Below him, Alfred, bless him, the adorable thing he was, snuggled closer and buried his face in Arthur’s side. His arms came around Arthur’s waist, no longer lazily drooping around him, but holding him firmly. Arthur answered with an affectionate stroke down the demon’s back and a hesitant smile down at him. They would figure it out. With some time, of course, but they would figure it out.

While Alfred dozed in his lap, Arthur shut his eyes and tried to focus his magic and pick up on the magic coursing through the area. Without his halo, it was hard to pick up very distinct signals, but he could put together some things. Offhandedly, he wondered why he should be able to feel the magic at all; either he had been practicing magic enough and had become relatively powerful with it, or he was being allowed to feel...Arthur would rather it be the former.

The magic felt distant and sometimes indistinguishable, unable to understand. At least he could pick out just enough. There was enough that the Unholy magic was present...But somewhere in there, he could feel Holy magic, emanating from very far and very faintly...Arthur let out a huff and clenched his jaw, trying to focus harder, but he couldn’t get much more beyond that.

But did that mean the angels were coming down to Hell? Arthur wasn’t aware of any other region Holy magic would be present in, meaning that they would be there to investigate the chaos, but it was possible the violence could have spread on further, if what Alfred said was true. Or he could be completely misunderstanding the feeling and he was just picking up some edge of Heaven

Arthur wanted to bet he knew exactly where the magic was coming from, though.

He awoke Alfred with a gentle shake. “Come on, I have a plan.” he muttered lowly, absentmindedly stroking the hair of the stirring demon below him.

O~o~O

The clouds above Hell appeared to thin briefly, the cold temperatures rising and the humidity giving way for just a moment. Hardly enough for it to be noticeable.

At least, not to the deranged and wild mob of demons still ravaging the city. They had calmed down little since the revolt against their leaders, and continued to tear up the town. Several were dead, more were injured, but the ones still mobile were still caught up in the sick thrill of death and destruction. Names were forgotten, alliances had lost meaning, and whatever civilisation they had before wasn’t going to come back any time soon. The Demonocracy wouldn’t take a step near the region until the worst of it had ridden over.

Some of the older demons couldn’t be bothered to take part in all the fun. In various places dotted around the city, buildings were quiet and calm compared to the madness going on throughout the region, holding demons that were cranky that nothing productive could be done until all the excitement was over.

Arthur had spread out his army within these areas, so he had eyes a safe distance away from all the ruination. That way, the faster demons could sneak around and tell him of any developments, and he could monitor the conflict directly, as well as his own demons.

They waited, patiently and quietly while the demons continued their senseless vandalising. It was difficult with the small amount of space they were able to move around in, but Arthur knew they could manage. Even if they were getting bored. Alfred had started kicking around some rocks after some time, and even got Basch to play with him. Arthur had no idea how he managed that, but he watched them with an amused smile.

“Won’t you join us, Arthur?” Basch asked him, trying to coax Arthur out of his spot where he watched the demons. Opening his mouth to politely deny the offer, Arthur started to say something, only to sense a very powerful presence nearby. He turned around slowly, and then took in a sharp breath just as he noticed them.

Coming up next to him, Alfred gasped audibly at seeing the angels appear, and, looking around, Arthur could see that the rest of his demons were just as amazed. Sure, they had seen angels before, but perhaps it wasn’t often they could get a good look without being attacked. That thought made Arthur smile wryly; he supposed there never would have been time before now, after all.

The angels flew down within a thin ray of light, soft and delicate as to not disturb the demons within the area. There weren’t many; Arthur could hardly count enough to make up an entire regiment. Their wings were pure and full in colour, reflecting some of the light, and giving off a very ethereal sense. Their halos glittered, and parts of their uniforms glistened vaguely. Arthur knew they only more brilliant and dazzling in Heaven, but the sheer amount of elegance and grace in their appearance was completely contrasting to the dull grey of Hell.

Arthur was prepared to move his own army away in case the angels shifted closer, but the small group of the Angelicans stayed at a distance that Arthur felt safe enough to stay.

“Arthur…” Alfred whispered, peeking eagerly over the wall they were crouched behind.

Glancing at him to show he was listening, Arthur motioned for him to back down in case he was seen. Luckily, Alfred complied, and not a second too soon; one angel looked over at them just after they hid again. But something about that particular angel...Arthur frowned and peeked again after a safe amount of time, and his suspicions were confirmed. His expression became stern and a little uncomfortable; why would the Angelicans send Feliciano down with this group?

Alfred nudged him to get his attention again. “Arthur, they’re really, really beautiful.” he murmured insistently, having to grasp Arthur’s hand tightly just to contain his excitement. Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled at him and rolled his eyes. “No, like, seriously! Not as much as you, but…” he trailed off, his blue eyes sparkling with the reflection of the heavenly beings.

Sighing, Arthur reached up to push Alfred’s head down again so he wasn’t seen. “Of course they are. They were created that way.”

None of the demons who were around them appeared to take any mind to Alfred’s offhanded comment of Arthur’s own beauty, which was a relief. Arthur wished he wouldn’t have said anything, however, because his cheeks suddenly felt warm.

Without any immediate danger to worry about, Arthur’s group silently observed the angels as they cautiously approached the uncontrollable demons. Those demons were screeching and dancing around fires and praising Satan, all of which didn’t seem to faze the feathered creatures. They didn’t even look too concerned about staying out of sight like Arthur was, and instead idly fluttered about to watch the demons from only a slight distance. They were clever about keeping behind their backs, but all in all, the angels didn’t appear to think of the demons as dangerous.

Arthur had no idea why that was. He would have thought that the angels would be smart about a mission like that and hide like he was, but perhaps they didn’t understand the situation entirely.

Time passed, Arthur had no idea how long they were all just sitting there, watching the demons in complete silence. Occasionally, he would move around his group to see if he could get a better view of what the angels were doing, but very little was working.

It began to rain. The water beat very gently upon them and the ground, and the angels did not seem impressed. At least, until Arthur noticed a slight disturbance in their midst. They began to move around like something had snuck in and startled them, but from where Arthur was, he couldn’t see anything wrong.

He maneuvered his group again, making sure everyone was safe and hidden before he looked again, trying to figure out the problem. Alfred came up beside him. “Hey…” Arthur narrowed his eyes to try and sharpen his vision, but it was difficult to see through the rain. “Hey, Arthur. Do you see those vials? The ones they’re holding.”

“Yes, I see.” Arthur answered, wondering what Alfred was implying. He glanced at the demon with question.

Alfred nodded to the angels, and then looked back at Arthur. “Look at their feet. If that’s what I think it is…”

Skeptically, Arthur turned and looked at the ground near where the angels stood, then noticed some thin white trails. “They brought salt…” he whispered, his eyes widening. The rain must be messing with the salt lines they had created. They had to have brought salt in the place of a more dangerous weapon; after all, it was just a mission of observation, right? They wouldn’t need that much to protect them. Just some salt to fling in a demon’s face in the event of confrontation.

But, surely a little rain wouldn’t worry the angels that much, right? From the distance they were at, Arthur could vaguely see what looked like an argument. He didn’t recognise any of them, except for Feliciano, who seemed the most distraught out of all of them.

All of the demons, every single one including Arthur’s army, turned in the direction of the angels at the sound of glass shattering.

Arthur watched, with eyes wide, as the angels all looked at Feliciano, who seemed to have thrown down the vial. Feliciano himself was looking around desperately, searching for something, or someone…”They’re looking for me.” Arthur whispered, ducking down so he wasn’t visible to anyone outside of his group. He made a hand motion to indicate that the others do the same, and, with Alfred beside him, he watched the wild demons approach the angels.

“Artie.” Alfred said quietly. Arthur ignored him, in favour of scowling at the impending conflict. The demons greatly outnumbered the angels, and a little salt would definitely not be enough to hold them all off. They were all looking at a bloody battle, uncivilised demons tearing apart the angels in a brutal attack. Arthur would wait for it patiently. Beside him, Alfred hopped up, unsure of what to do. “Arthur, Arthur, are we just going to let them-?”

Trying to calm Alfred down with a wave of his hand, Arthur continued to watch, his gaze cold and unfeeling. The angels came here, so it was their own fault if they were attacked. They could afford a few casualties here and there, after all. All Arthur had to do was watch.

The angels began backing away, realising the danger they were in. Feliciano kept looking around, hopelessly trying to find him, but...Arthur didn’t care. They wouldn’t find him, they wouldn’t ruin him. They would leave him and his army alone. He couldn’t trust any of them, because no one knew who was really in control. No one did. And they could try to find him, try to kill him, but he wouldn’t let them take him.

“Arthur!” Alfred finally snapped at him, and grabbed both of his shoulders to force Arthur to face him. “Arthur, we can’t just let this happen! We can stop it, can’t we?” he asked hopelessly. “No one has to die today!”

Glaring back defiantly, Arthur opened his mouth to protest, ready to explain that it was their own fault if they were killed. Alfred must have noticed the ruthlessness in his expression, because he blinked at Arthur, trying to read him for any sign of empathy. But, there must not have been much there. The sheer shock and dismal look in his big blue eyes made Arthur clench his jaw and let out a rough sigh through his nose. “Fine.” he spat.

He turned and yelled to get the attention of his army. “Distract the demons, but don’t let yourself be seen!” he ordered. “Make sure the angels escape safely!” With that, he and Alfred jumped forward and flew towards the desperate situation.

Keeping in the shadows and staying indistinguishable from any of the other demons, his army worked quietly, holding off demons by slowing them down, and giving the angels as much time as possible to get away before the crowd became too excitable. Arthur had to punch one in the face to keep him from chasing them, and that initiated an entire brawl that got the demon’s minds off the angels only briefly.

“Look at the pretty birdies!” one slurred, and Arthur cursed while wiping blood from his chin. Why wouldn’t they just fly away already? “Birdies look tasty...Tasty birdies~” Arthur angrily swung his fist, and it connected with the demon’s head hard enough to knock him right out.

The angels continued their retreat down the streets, staying in an organised formation. For a reason Arthur couldn’t figure out, they wouldn’t fly up. He began to get concerned that it was a trap, but he didn’t think the angels would look so genuinely afraid if it were; angels were very bad at hiding their true emotions. So, he hesitantly continued to try and slow down the mob of violent demons as much as he and his army could.

As it went on, it was looking like they couldn’t do it for much longer. Almost in a drunken trance, the demons became fixated with the angels, and vocally expressed how much they would like to eat them, or torture them, or do whatever it took to hear them scream. There was nothing Arthur could do would stop them unless he wanted his army to be hypnotised into the trance as well.

He shared a look with Alfred, and with Basch, Ludwig, and Ivan, who appeared to be coming to the same realisation he was. They could only do one more thing. Without the ability to explain it in detail without revealing himself, Arthur did what he could to convey his plan. Luckily, his army caught on.

Alfred flew over to cover Arthur, shielding him from view. Basch and Ivan went towards the front of the crowd, leading the others with them so they took the brunt of the demon’s approach. Ludwig flew out in front of them all, turning to face the angels.

“You have to leave!” he yelled at them, raising his wings and baring his teeth to frighten them, trying urge them to fly away. “Go now! Unless you want to be eaten alive!”

Startled, the angels fluttered further away, while Arthur, Alfred, Ivan, and the others tried to shove off the approaching demons. It was beginning to cause a stir, and fights were breaking out. It was becoming more and more dangerous the longer the angels waited.

But, finally, Arthur peeked back just as Feliciano flew up, leading the others with him. He had chosen a bad time to look, because he could have sworn that he and Feliciano locked eyes for just a moment, a moment long enough to be significant. Did Feliciano recognise him? Arthur had no idea, but it certainly felt like it. Before the demons could really react to follow them, the angels took off and soared up high in the sky, heading back towards Heaven.

“Fall back!” Arthur hollered. “Head for the alley!”

O~o~O

Francis flew over as fast as he could as soon as he heard the news. The group Feliciano had flown out with had returned, finally, and Francis wanted to be the first to hear from the ginger-haired angel. He’d heard something about them being in danger, something had exposed them to the demons they were meant to observe. He could only wonder…

“Feliciano!” he called out, reaching for the angel. He was trembling, and it made Francis concerned. “Feli, are you alright? What happened-?”

Turning abruptly, Feliciano faced Francis with a wide smile. “Francis! I saw him!” before Francis could reply, Feliciano grabbed his arm and flew a distance away from the rest of the angels. He seemed barely able to control his excitement, and hugged Francis before he could react.

Smiling gently, Francis hugged him back. “Saw who?” he questioned calmly.

“I saw Arthur!”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all! Before I go into the stuff about this chapter, I have a very special shoutout for a very special someone :D I met her only recently, but she's already such a great friend and deserves this and more! Mana, or y'all might know her as gallifreyanlibertea or thedoctorwatcheshetalia! Today, the 26th, is her birthday XD So here's to Mana, the sweetest girl ever like ahhh I wish I could hug you!! I'm so proud and so happy for you, keep writing and being awesome!
> 
> So! Hey, it's been awhile ^.^' This chapter was called Ruled By Secrecy! Originally, it was supposed to be a Linkin Park song, but this Muse song went better with the overall theme. If it were to be sung, it would be sung by Arthur, but perhaps in his dream he'd sing this. That dream in the beginning where he was in Heaven? Yea, I think that's where he'd sing it. And then just gradually over the course of the chapter, it'd build up to that climactic chorus XD
> 
> I didn't actually put much lyrical input at all, and the little I did wasn't even from Ruled By Secrecy XD In the dream, I put little quotes that go "Aping my soul...You stole my Overture...Trapped in God's program...Oh I can't escape..." Which is from another Muse song :P This is just getting complicated, sorry XD I'll try to explain, though.
> 
> As you all know, Messenger is progressing through arcs. This is where it gets really confusing; there is a very obvious timeline of arcs, and that would be the previous one, The Blackout Arc, and then this one, The Resistance Arc. And then there's separate arcs that cover the course of the entire story. For example, there is The Drones Arc, which is the Muse album that will be a recurring thematic type motif, and then there's The Exogenesis Arc.
> 
> The Exogenesis Symphony, is only three songs from the album The Resistance(three movements to the symphony, kinda) and, like The Drones Arc, it will cover the entire story, only, not with nine or ten songs, but just the three XD It's more of a general theme that follows a couple of arcs, representing plot and character development. We are still in Exogenesis Symphony Part One: Overture, which is absolutely gorgeous and where the random lyrical quotes in Arthur's dream come from. If you actually listened to the song, you might not be able to understand what Bellamy is saying, but trust me, those are the lyrics XD I might not make the symphonies actual chapters, it just depends on how the story progresses. Anyway, so you'll be seeing more of that first part of the symphony!
> 
> Isn't it sad how Arthur doesn't realise Feliciano seeing him is a good thing? XD Feliciano is like "AHHH HE'S ALIVE" and Arthur's like "AHHH THE ANGELS ARE COMING FOR ME"
> 
> ...And then you have Alfred, who's just like "Dude, chill" XD
> 
> Alright! So, Disclaimer** I don't own the bible, Muse, Linkin Park, sweet Mana(<3), the thing about salt being a weapon against demons, or Hetalia :D
> 
> The cover image was drawn by Makoyana! Who, btw, is trying to become an official artist for Muse's next album or single, and she could really use help! You can help us by going on Twitter or Instagram and @-ing the band, or any of the members, and using the #Makoyana!
> 
> ~Madz


	6. From the Inside

O~o~O

Francis was sick.

He couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. It had to be an illness that plagued him, rising in his throat and making his insides churn. It was so unfamiliar and uncomfortable, so vastly different from what he knew that he felt he couldn’t bear it. What was happening to him was a gruesome decay of his resolve, and it made his heart pound and his body work itself into a cold sweat. He found over time that it was progressively getting worse; he was becoming anxious and jittery to what he thought was an unhealthy level.

Small noises began to startle him. He was sick of hiding, sick of uncertainty, sick of not knowing who to trust. He was sick of this labyrinthine loneliness. There wasn’t anything he could say without risking his and Feli’s safety. There was nothing he could do that wouldn’t put he, Feli, and Arthur even in danger.

Poor Feliciano was a mere shell of the angel he used to be. There were dark circles under his gorgeous eyes from hours of watching holographic projections, and his movements were half hearted and hardly ever graceful anymore. It was obvious he was frightened of something, and most angels who talked to them tried to urge him to sleep. Francis knew he couldn’t; he would just stare with wide eyes at the sky, only ever able to sleep for a couple of hours at a time.

There was never a time before where Francis had been this helpless, this powerless. He was guilty and furious and torn up about what he wanted and what he had to do. Sometimes he found himself picking nervously at his feathers out of the sheer frustration of unanswered questions. Others, he’d be lying still, staring at the sky until his head would ache. He didn’t understand why he was suffering; he wasn’t being injured or harmed physically in any way. Alas, most angels did not understand that the mind was just as capable of unbearable torment as any weapon.

He was sick of not being able to speak.

Of the hundreds of angels he saw a day, there was only one who he could freely express himself to. Even with that, the opportunities he had to speak were limited and chopped, with only room for bits and pieces. It wasn’t enough for him. It just wasn’t enough for him to live.

There was a breaking point. There was a point where Francis couldn’t take stuffing his feelings into a glass container anymore, and where he could no longer keep his words locked up on the tip of his tongue. There was a point where everything he had worked for would fall apart.

The breaking point wasn’t dramatic when it was hit. Yes, the glass shattered into a million tiny pieces, and yes, the lock became too weak to fulfill its purpose. Instead of going off like an explosive, the breaking point appeared in a sudden, but quiet moment of clarity. Within it, Francis’s vision sharpened, and his moral compass righted itself. His third eye was wide open.

He had changed. His resolution, his goals, his dreams had all changed, and there was no going back.

In the morning, Francis awoke early and left a sleeping Feliciano with a kiss on his cheek and a murmured blessing. With an indifferent expression, he fluttered out into the open air, and made his way to Camael’s cathedral. There, he knew he would find an assembly, lots of angels gathering in the grand temple to sing into the sunrise.

He landed gently before the massive palace with the voices of hundreds echoing softly around him. Closing his eyes, he stopped, and for just a moment he could let himself remember the beauty of Heaven for its voices and its harps. There wasn’t a more beautiful sound that existed anywhere, he didn’t think.

Taking long, languid steps into the cathedral, Francis looked around. The sun reflected through the windows, dappling the floor with splashes of vivid colour, and through the angel’s wings as they stood all along the arch. He thought for a moment if he looked hard enough, he could see the celestial blood pumping through their veins, giving life and breath to the angels. Truly, they were pure and simple creatures that harboured great power. But they were being poisoned and corrupted with every second that went by.

It couldn’t go on any longer.

Camael watched him curiously, while he walked through the angels and didn’t halt to sing with the rest. Instead, he walked right up to the altar, where the sun was rising to Camael’s back, and the cathedral was golden with a soft, promising glow. Francis walked up to the Seraph, with his six wings spread and his cross over his heart.

Francis only stopped when he was directly in front of the magnificent archangel.

“Camael.” he addressed simply.

The voices slowly began to fade behind him, lost in the echo of the cathedral. An ominous silence swept over the room, confused and lost.

Camael blinked once at Francis with a relaxed expression, and Francis could see himself in those silver eyes. Those cold, unfeeling, sinister silver eyes.

Francis took a breath. “What you have done and what you are continuing to do is wrong. You have lied to us.” he accused calmly. So calmly, that he had no trouble detecting the apparent air of shock behind him. Camael did not look surprised. “I cannot allow this to go on any longer.”

There wasn’t even time to blink before Francis had summoned his bow and arrow to fire.

O~o~O

The room was mostly quiet.

A couple of pages were flipped over quickly, Arthur skimming some pages for certain words. He sat on the floor, and all around him were stacks of books he’d collected from the Nkri graveyard. He held three open books, one in each hand, and one balanced on his knee. The only way he could flip the pages and still see all three books was with magic, and it was starting to wear him out after doing it for so long. It was such hard work that he’d switched forms, feeling it was too warm with his uniform jacket on. Besides, as an angel, it was easier to concentrate on using magic.

But, that was why he was practicing. He was reading books on history, Unholy magic, and Holy magic, all while practicing and refining his own ability. It wasn’t possible for an angel to use Unholy magic, but Holy magic was generally more powerful anyway. If he could just catch up on his practice and learn some more complicated parts of his potential power...Arthur had lost track of time, having gone into a flowing state of progress.

All the while, he wondered offhandedly what would happen should one of his soldiers fly through the open balcony. Would they recognise him immediately? Or would they just think he was another angel like Alfred did? Arthur remembered that with an amused chuckle, how oblivious Alfred had been at first, and how frightened he himself had been. How naïve he was then...

Perhaps that state of flow was why he didn’t notice the other presence at first, but it didn’t take long for him to realise Alfred had returned and was trying to sneak up on him. He was at least careful about it, taking silent steps and making sure his silhouette didn’t cross Arthur’s vision. But magic wouldn’t allow Alfred to hide.

“How are you, Alfred?” Arthur asked, not looking up from his books.

“Damn it.” Alfred replied, laughing. He started to walk over, opening his mouth to say something, but Arthur stopped him by looking up shaking his head. Pausing, Alfred tilted his own head.

Arthur carefully shut one of the books in his hand and set it down, and then held it up towards Alfred. “I want to try something. Tell me about your day so far.” was all he said, watching Alfred carefully.

Blinking, Alfred thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “I mean, okay, dude. Uh, well, it was pretty normal, I guess. I flew around the city for awhile…” As Alfred spoke, Arthur’s hand began making short, but complicated gestures, and his eyes started to glow a faint gold colour. “...And then I helped out a bit at that shop run by that-...”

Arthur’s hand closed into a fist, and Alfred suddenly fell silent, looking shocked that he wasn’t saying anything. He even opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but he wasn’t able to form words.

Eyes lighting up, Arthur grinned. “It works...” he said lowly. “...Ha! It works!”

His fist opened up, and Alfred was finally able to talk again. He had to test his voice out for a moment before he spoke.. “You mean to tell me…” he started off quietly, with a frown. “That I came all the way back home just for you to tell me you learned how to shut me up?”

Arthur nodded excitedly.

They just stared at each other for a moment. “...Dude, that’s awesome!” Alfred bounded forward, and flew down low with his arms open so he would slide right into Arthur for a hug. Arthur met him with a smile, chuckling when the demon nuzzled his neck. “Can it, like, work on everyone? Oh! Oh! What about the other way around?”

Accepting the embrace easily, Arthur sighed pleasantly and relaxed. “What do you mean, ‘the other way around?’ I’m not sure if it’ll work on everyone, but I have a good feeling about it. Magic is very peculiar; once I can get comfortable with something, it starts to come quite naturally.” he shrugged.

Alfred pulled back a little to look around at the books that were open in front of Arthur. “I mean like, if you wanted to make me say something. Could you do that?” He tilted his head.

The books all flipped shut suddenly, and Alfred grinned excitedly when he noticed Arthur had closed them with magic. “I’m...Not sure if I can. But I can learn that too. We’ll see.” Arthur nodded. Then, in a teasing tone, he added “It will be useful for when you don’t know what to say, at least.”

He got up and started organising the books, lifting his hands and somehow convincing the books to stack up neatly in another part of the room, hidden from view from anyone who should happen to fly by. The balcony was wide open, after all. “You have to be polite with them,” Arthur explained vaguely. “Books don’t like to be pushed around. But as long as you’re courteous, they will comply.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but okay.” Alfred laughed, and came up to Arthur again while he was finishing putting the books up. “Well, I came to tell you that Basch wants to talk to you. He and Ludwig continued spying on the demons from the base, like you told them too. They’re starting to calm down a bit. Ludwig said we could probably talk to them without being attacked.”

His interest piqued, Arthur glanced at Alfred. “Is that so?” he questioned mildly. “Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to see if we can enlist anyone…” Trailing off in deep thought, he absentmindedly gestured elegantly into the air, performing the switching spell. His feathered wings and tunic were soon replaced with the leathered wings and uniform. And, of course, the horns and tail. Alfred walked around him as he did, tilting his head slightly and observing Arthur with a skeptical look.

Arthur looked right back at him with a bored expression. He crossed his arms, straightening his posture and raising his eyebrows in silent question. His tail flicked impatiently.

Alfred frowned a little bit, and rubbed his head. “You seem...Distant.” he remarked pensively. His eyes narrowed slightly, either with unspoken accusation or curious concern; Arthur couldn’t quite tell. But it didn’t matter, they had work to do. “Have you been thinking about something that’s bothering you?”

“No.” Arthur was quick to say, letting out a heavy breath and heading for the balcony. “I’m fine, Alfred, I have a lot to think about when we’re all at risk of being attacked at virtually any time, and when we could possibly triple the size of the army by tonight. I can’t be anything but distant at a time like this.”

Following hesitantly, Alfred’s expression didn’t change while they walked out onto the balcony. He listened as Arthur went on, speaking in a tone like he was lecturing Alfred. “You understand, don’t you? It’s not safe and we can’t let our guard down. We-”

“Not even around me?” Alfred interrupted, mildly surprising Arthur. He felt Alfred reach to gently make Arthur face him. There was little force behind the gesture, a sort of reluctance, and a faint hint of hurt in Alfred’s eyes. They were both silent for a moment, because Arthur wasn’t sure how to answer and he didn’t think Alfred knew how to continue.

He let out a deep sigh. “Come on. We have to go check on the Base demons.” he said curtly, and then jumped up and took off, diving into Hell’s dank and humid city.

Alfred wasn’t long after him, and Arthur could hear him catching up until they were even with one another. They shared a glance before returning to concentrating on their flight. The silence that stretched between them wasn’t really tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

It wasn’t clear what was bugging Alfred, and it bothered Arthur a little bit because it was normally easy to figure out. Recently, Alfred had become very tentative and reluctant around Arthur, and nervous to talk to him in front of other demons. For the life of him, Arthur couldn’t fathom what it was. He didn’t do anything wrong, and it wasn’t really possible for Alfred to hide anything from him.

He supposed he’d have to figure it out later.

In the distance, he began to hear voices floating from the direction of the base and narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t quite pick them out, but nothing seemed urgent. Guiding Alfred to follow with a wide turn, he weaved in and out and up and through the pillars and poles of the city, feeling refreshed with the pace and the fast wind. It was cold, but he could tolerate it. At least while he was moving.

They landed quietly just before the group, all of them chattering about something. Their voices were soft and considerate for something, most likely the rest of the expansive silence that swathed the space before them. Upon noticing their arrival, the group suddenly fell silent, and parted for he and Alfred. They carefully stepped forward.

The view was...Magnificent, for lack of a better word. Magnificent in the sense that Arthur had to shift his eyes away briefly, and Alfred had to move a few steps closer to him with a wince.

Arthur could feel all of the eyes on him, gauging his reaction to the gruesome scene before them. Once he took in a deep breath, he was able to steel himself enough to look again at the desolate ruins of the base and the grisly remains of some unfortunate souls. The lonely aftermath of the revolt was...quite bleak and bloody.

There seemed to be no signs of life at all, at least until there was some stirring from a figure in the distance, but it was weak and hardly enough to promise life. Arthur sighed quietly, and then, with a beckoning gesture and a soft voice, he said “Alright, let’s see what we can find. Search for survivors, and be on the lookout for an attack.”

“An attack?” someone asked. “There’s no one here!”

That started a bout of murmuring from the group, but Arthur silenced them by holding up a hand. “I’m aware there is no one in sight for a great distance. However, we must be careful; there is no way of knowing if there are living demons looking for a fight, or if the Demonocracy has been waiting for us to show up. Just...Be careful. Alright?”

The group then split up. As a precaution, Arthur noted they wisely stayed in small groups, and no one was left on their own. He and Alfred, of course, paired up, and the other closer and more experienced demons like Ivan and Basch were watching out for the less experienced demons.

Arthur was confident they were safe, so he lead the group around and into the half-standing building. Alfred followed close, and together they navigated the vast and craggy wreckage. There were plenty of dead bodies dappling the area, and it made the usual grey colour have a more red hue...There was also a very notably different smell. Arthur wrinkled his nose while he flew up and over what once was a tall, standing wall

Onwards towards the horizon, the desolation stretched on. “Are you okay?” Alfred asked, touching his arm. They both landed on the very tip of the tilted wall, and Arthur faced him skeptically. “I mean, with all the, uh, bodies. Can you-?”

“I’m fine.” Arthur interrupted, nodding and patting Alfred’s shoulder. “Really. I am, I can deal with it. Can you?”

Alfred smiled nervously at him. “Actually, I, uh, I’m feeling a little sick. I can keep up,” he said quickly, when Arthur opened his mouth to say something out of concern. “I’m fine. I just...As long as I’m with you, I’ll be fine. I think.”

Briefly curling his tail around Alfred’s, Arthur nodded with a slight smile. He trusted Alfred could stay focused even with such an alarming sight right with them. “Alright,” he said, turning and taking off. “Let’s see what we can find out here.”

“Yep!” Alfred took off after him. “If you get cold, let me know!”

They spent a long time picking at the destroyed base and the dead bodies. Everything seemed so dull, so lifeless and dark. The amount of bodies they spotted was alarming, in fact, it ended up being so many that Arthur didn’t bother to keep count. The group was meticulous, leaving no stone unturned. Sometimes they literally had to flip stones. Giant ones that actually were once pieces of the base. Under Arthur’s direction, the demons were able to work together and combine their strength in order to clear some of the wreckage.

It got to a point where Arthur realised they were basically taking down the remainder of the base. He ordered everyone to just start knocking things down, which he realised was a dangerous thing to do right after he said it. But before he could take back the order, the demons were already assembling to demolish the rest, so he figured he might as well join. It ended up being kind of fun, really. Somehow, when they were all working to push down a pillar, they all were making jokes and acting silly and laughing. Laughing, of all things! It felt like a crime.

Alfred was also joining in, though something about him seemed only half present. He laughed, he goofed around, but there was something off in his movement that was only apparent to Arthur. He was worried, but he didn’t say anything. He’d talk about it with Alfred when they went home.

Sometime close to when they were getting done destroying the remaining parts of the former base, Arthur stopped for a moment when his eye caught on an engraved stone sign. A sign in an old dialect that seemed familiar. Curious, Arthur knelt to pick it up. Just when you thought Hell couldn’t get any worse...He laughed to himself, and then abruptly brought it down hard on his knee. It shattered sort of in half, and the pieces crumbled to the ground.

Basch stared at him with a blank look, and Ivan smiled at him. He knew what it was. “It was the first thing I ever read here.” Arthur explained, feeling amused and uplifted. “Come on, we’re nearly done.”

It was raining by the time they actually found someone.

Everyone simultaneously turned towards the sound when they heard it, a low groan behind a standing wall supported by foundation beneath the ground. In a rush, everyone had flown over, splashing up bloodied mud upon landing. Arthur was first, and stared in shock at the figure before him.

‘There’s no lower half, she’s lost her legs…’Taking a tentative step closer, he was the first to react as well, and forced himself to go kneel beside the demon mournfully. He felt his heart pound in his chest at the sight.

“P-Paranom-mia…” the girl choked out, shakily raising her head. Her hand twitched, Arthur noticed, while his gaze travelled along her shredded body. He had to swallow back bile at seeing, up very close, her intestines splayed out in gruesome tangles where her legs used to be. The rest of the group crowded around her at a respectful distance, apparently unsure of what to do.

Making sure he had a voice, Arthur barely managed to keep his composure. “You know me?” he asked her gently, reaching delicately with his gloved hand to brush her matted hair from her face.

She swallowed thickly and nodded as best as she could, her breath hitching a couple of times. Arthur struggled not to let his expression twist with a terrified pity. “Of-of course I do...Every-everyone d-does…” she sounded like she was holding back a sob. “Th-they-they’re co-coming for y-you, Paran...nomia...They-they will...M-murder y-you without re-rem...Remorse…”

Arthur frowned when he saw her eyes mist up. They glistened with tears, looking up at him hopelessly. The faint light was leaving her eyes, instead reflecting himself. “What do you mean? The Demonocrats? They plan on…” he frowned when he remembered that he’d never seen a demon cry, that demons shouldn’t cry, or they’ll...

“Att-tacking you…E-everyone he-here...” she confirmed, finally letting out a thick sob. “The-they’re going t-to kill us all!”

Eyes widening, Arthur could only watch as the tears finally started streaming down her cheeks. ‘Why is she...Why is she crying?!’ Within seconds, she started letting out a despairing shriek as the tears burned her face, scarring and scalding her more and more.

Arthur jumped up and ushered the group back a distance, alarmed as he watched the demon be consumed in flames. All around them echoed the screams, the cries of torture that continued on for so long that Arthur couldn’t tell whether or not they had stopped and they were just ringing in his ears. Everyone’s eyes reflected a brilliant flash of fire before all went dark again.

All that remained of her was a small pile of ash.

It took a little bit before anyone could move again. Arthur was still frozen in his place when Ivan came up and gently patted his back, and Arthur jumped a little bit out of surprise. “Comrade...Are you alright?” Ivan asked softly.

Arthur’s stare was still fixed upon what remained of the demon, and he hadn’t realised he was holding his breath. Letting out shakily, he shook his head a little bit and then looked down with just his eyes at his hands. He couldn’t move much more than that. “Alfred?” he asked in a small voice.

There was some shifting behind him, some movement and quiet voices, but no warmth appeared beside Arthur, no one came to calm him. It occurred to him that no one knew where he was. “Alfred?” he asked again, in a slightly more urgent tone. He turned around quickly, only to see several faces looking back at him, and not one of them being the one he was looking for. His expression briefly reflected his inner panic, but he was quick to compose himself convincingly once again.

He cleared his throat and raised his chin, looking at everyone. He tried not to look at Ivan’s concerned expression. “We’re done here for today. But, uh…” he glanced back at the remains of the girl. “The Demonocracy is coming for us. She gave up her life to warn us, so we should take heed. We…” he hesitated.

They were all looking at him, and he recognised the look. The helpless, powerless look. None of them knew what to do, and they all looked to him for guidance. He had to stay strong for them.

“We have to go. We can’t stay here as long as we’re being hunted. We have to go somewhere else where we can be safe.” he set his jaw grimly, and the only option presented itself to him then.

He took a big breath, and let it out carefully. “...We have to leave the first circle.”

O~o~O

Once he was certain all the demons in his group had gone somewhere safe for the night, Arthur approached the pile of ash and took a moment to pray for the demon’s soul, before he went on his way. It was very lonely, he wasn’t sure how he could stand being on his own. It hit Arthur hard when he realised just how utterly alone he was without Alfred.

He could only hope that Alfred was back home. With no further hesitation, he took off.

The city seemed dark and frightening as Arthur flew past, and he found himself going faster and faster, until he was nearly sprinting. He felt his heart pounding harder and harder, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not when he was being chased by a ghost of very recent past. Part of him was haunted by the face of the young demon who’d burned before him, and part of him felt isolated and desperate, for he didn’t know what had happened to his one friend.

Somewhere along the way, the two nightmares combined, and Arthur nearly convinced himself that Alfred had cried and was now nothing more than a pile of ash. Horrified, he weaved around a little clumsily in trying to pick up speed and ended up shifting his wings the wrong way and stumbling into the balcony of his home.

He panted, but was unable to calm his thudding heart as he stood up and came up to the corner just before the opening inside. Cautiously, he peeked around the wall and crept into the room, searching for any sign of life. He almost fell to his knees in relief when he recognised the figure sitting on the bed.

“Alfred,” he said, rushing over and pulling back the curtain the rest of the way so he could see Alfred fully. “Alfred, why did you leave?”

Alfred looked up at him, mildly startled, and Arthur noticed his face was shiny with sweat and paler than it normally was. His eyes, when Arthur looked closer, were slightly dazed, and it looked like Alfred’s hands were shaking. “I-I, uh...I couldn’t-...” he stopped, and Alfred’s hesitation was long enough to make Arthur impatient.

“Where were you?!” Arthur’s voice raised a little, and he reached down to force Alfred to look up at him, looking upset and angry. “I needed you back there! I needed you, and you left me!”

With wide eyes, Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but wasn’t able to decide what he wanted to say. “I-it’s-I’m-I can’t-” he struggled a little bit, and tried to gently push Arthur’s hands away by his wrists, but Arthur wouldn’t budge. “I-I’m sorry! I couldn’t look at her!” he finally got out.

Arthur was silent, taking forced deep breaths to calm himself down, but it wasn’t working. The sheer terror he had felt before was being replaced with unmatched fury. He roughly yanked his hands away and turned his back to Alfred. But, he couldn’t stand still, and started pacing back and forth. He glared at the floor with his hands laced behind his back.

Behind him, Alfred stood up, looking anguished. “A-Arthur, I...I’m sorry! She didn’t have legs, and I just...I c-couldn’t take it. I-I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that…” he trailed off, searching for words, and finally choked on “M-mutilated.”

Arthur stopped abruptly and faced Alfred with a snarl. “She’s dead!” he spat venomously. “What was done to her was horrendous, but I had to watch her become nothing more than ash!”

Alfred backed up a step, looking horrified. “I-I’m so sorry.” he stuttered weakly.

“And what could I tell the rest of the army?! They watched her burn with me!” Arthur continued on, the momentum of his anger carrying through. He gestured around wildly, and his voice rose with his frustration. “I didn’t know what to do, and neither did they! I couldn’t do anything, a single damned thing, and I’m supposed to guide them! They are my responsibility, especially when something this awful happens that we are witness to! What must they think of me?! I couldn’t handle it by myself, I needed you! Where were you when I needed you?!”

He didn’t even wait for an answer. He just let his question echo around the loud silence in the room. Breathing hard, he watched Alfred with wild eyes, alight with a livid spirit.

Alfred looked back at him, looking like he wasn’t sure if he was hurt or upset. Or both. “Arthur, I...I’m so sorry…” he apologised softly. Then, he hesitantly moved forward, reaching out to Arthur as if to take him into his arms.

His hand had just barely brushed Arthur’s shoulder when Arthur reacted. “Don’t you bloody touch me.” he seethed, whirling around to march out on the balcony.

“A-Arthur-!” Alfred flew out after him, holding up his hands. “Hey, A-Arthur, I think you should calm down, and c-come back inside…”

Turning around, Arthur was about to yell at Alfred, demanding a reason he need to stay, but suddenly found he couldn’t. Alfred flew right into him and held him tightly, not allowing him to back away. “Alfred, let me go! Let me…” he struggled roughly, but this was one battle he wouldn’t win. Still, he squirmed, trying to get away, so he could be anywhere but there. “Stop it, Alfred! Let me be!” despite his protests, Alfred held fast.

Arthur finally gave up after a little bit with a rough sigh, and Alfred relaxed his grip. The hug must have been to placate Arthur enough so that he wouldn’t try to fly away, and Arthur realised it had worked. He took a deep breath and put a hand on Alfred’s shoulder to signal he was calm, and Alfred adjusted his arms more comfortably around Arthur. After a moment, he rested his head in the crook of Arthur’s shoulder.

He sighed shakily. “I’m sorry I left you.” he murmured softly. “I’m so sorry I left you there alone to deal with her...I couldn’t handle seeing someone like that. I’ll try my best to prepare for it more in the future.”

“I’m sorry I overreacted.” Arthur replied in a similar tone, his arms finding their own way around Alfred. “I shouldn’t blame you for my ineptitude. You were frightened. I’ll try to control myself if I get that angry again.”

They stayed like that for a good while, standing in one another’s arms in comfortable silence. Arthur absently wondered how Alfred was able to so easily calm him down, and he found it both alarming and soothing that Alfred had such an ability. He supposed that was why he got so irrational in the first place; without Alfred to rely on, he had nothing to hold and fell down hard. Perhaps if Alfred had been there, he wouldn’t have been so shocked. Perhaps if Alfred had been there, merely touching the memory of her face as she burned wouldn’t startle him so much.

He shifted a little, turning his face so it was pressed into Alfred’s neck and shoulder. Her face...Her sorrowful, despairing face was something Arthur didn’t think he could ever forget. Or her words...She spent the last of her breath warning them, warning them of the Demonocracy’s plans…

“Alfred,” Arthur said urgently, suddenly remembering his last orders to his army. He pulled back and tilted Alfred’s head up enough so their foreheads were touching. With a hesitant, shaky breath, he spoke. “Alfred...She, er, just before she...died, she told us something very important. She, ah, warned us that the Demonocrats are...working on hunting and killing us off. I imagine since the base was destroyed, they’ve regrouped somewhere with a stronger force, and I...I think we have to leave.”

Frowning, Alfred blinked at Arthur, the alarm evident in his eyes. “Leave here? Where? Right now?”

Arthur sighed. “I think we have to leave the first circle.” he said quietly. “If the Demonocracy has reorganised, they won’t be easy to deal with and certainly won’t have too much trouble taking on our numbers. We don’t have to leave immediately, but we can’t stay for longer than a few hours. I don’t believe we’re safe here anymore…”

He trailed off, and they both slowly turned, and gazed forlornly inside their home. The lonely, mostly empty home that had become so familiar and so safe.

“...Oh.” Alfred finally uttered.

Guiltily, Arthur reached up to pull Alfred a little closer. “I’m sorry.” he said softly. “I’m afraid this is our last night here...”

Alfred took a shaky breath and tightened his hold on Arthur, nuzzling the side of his face. “I guess we better make the most of it, huh?” he only just managed a small, sad smile.

Arthur could only nod, facing Alfred with a remorseful smile of his own. “Yea.”

And then there was silence.

For awhile, they just watched the rain.

Arthur had taken down the curtain, opening up the view from the bed again, and they both laid in silence together. The sound of the rain was lazy and hushed, despite being so heavy. Watching with dull green eyes, Arthur couldn’t be bothered to move when he noticed some of the rain was getting the tile near the entrance wet.

He had transformed earlier, just after they’d come inside. Despite having his fluffy wings around him and Alfred up close, he was cold. Still, he didn’t feel inclined to move. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to feel comfortable in that moment. Just one movement in his arm to pull a blanket around himself, or just one phrase spoken to Alfred would fix it, and yet, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

Laying in sombre peace was enough.

So he lay, suppressing his shivers and watching the rain, while Alfred dozed, his head comfortably resting on Arthur’s shoulder and chest. He kept thinking of her...Her round, smooth face, her doomed, conceding eyes, her long, dark hair matted with mud and surrounding her head...And of course the lack of a lower half. She was such a bloody mess that Arthur could hardly tell where the started and where she ended, though he knew very well she ended quite abruptly across her stomach. She was a perfect, tragically beautiful image of death by feeling.

And Arthur was still shaken by it.

The combination of the sight his third eye beheld and the unrelenting cold made him quiver with a grave chill. There was nothing he could have done, and knowing that only made him feel worse. He should have been able to do something, he should have been strong enough…

An arm suddenly wrapped around him, startling Arthur just slightly. His eyes flashed down at Alfred, who was looking up at him tiredly. “You can tell me if you’re cold,” he murmured, leaning heavily into Arthur in his attempt to wake up again. “‘M not mad at you or nothin’...

Arthur said nothing. In response, he just shifted to let Alfred move closer and sighed softly. The rain whispered at him, with it’s endless thrumming and pattering, and it became more incessant. Only a little. His eyes narrowed, dimly reflecting the thick, glittering rain and faintly showing the one question repeating itself in his head. ‘Why, why, why?’ So many of the wrongs he’d witnessed, so many of the betrayals ran through his mind, and yet he only had one question for them all.

His breath became slightly shaky at the realisation that the worlds were just cruel. That was his answer, the answer to everything he’d ever wanted to know. Of course, of course he knew the answer, but he still had to ask. Why? Why was all of this allowed to happen? Why is it just the worlds are cruel? Why are the worlds cruel? And why doesn’t anyone do anything to change it? Was he truly among the few that could see the injustice? Was he the only one not willing to live with it? Was something wrong with him?

Carefully, he smoothed Alfred’s hair beneath his hand, aware that his hands were trembling, as were his wings. The questions and the answers were starting to not make sense but the feeling was still the same. He could feel his expression fall with the grief.

After a moment, he shut his eyes and covered his face with his free hand, feeling like he had to cry.

Alfred shifted a little, and then noticed Arthur’s apparent distress. “Artie?” he asked softly, considerately, for the upset angel. “Hey, buddy, what’s the matter?” he turned over and leaned closer instinctively, as he seemed to be drawn to Arthur when he was sad. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and then relaxed against him again. Arthur could feel Alfred’s tail coming around his waist as well. Alfred couldn’t see his face, but it was obvious he thought Arthur was crying.

The problem was, Arthur realised, he wasn’t. He was very, very sad in that moment and wanted nothing more than to shed a few tears. But none came, and instead he raised his head to rest on Alfred’s shoulder. “Nothing. I’m fine.” he murmured softly.

Outside, the wind and the rain attempted a chilling duet.

The feeling ebbed away, like a sore, bothered bruise being left to heal. Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to be alarmed, as if discovering he couldn’t cry anymore had tipped the scale, and he could no longer care. About anything. He felt disgusted with himself, and lonely despite the fact he was being held very intimately to Alfred. The cold and unforgiving air felt like it could freeze him.

“Hey.” Alfred murmured into him. The soft tone was enough to make Arthur listen. “Why don’t we go bathe together or something?”

“Together?” Arthur questioned with a frown, thoughts of a demon’s modesty making him unsure he understood. “Alfred, I’m not going to make you-”

Alfred startled him into silence by pressing his face to Arthur’s cheek, and tentatively nuzzling him. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s why I’m making myself. It is our last night here.” he pointed out, his voice taking on a lower tone as if trying to mask his nervousness. “I don’t know if I can ever feel this relaxed again. I’d like to make good use of it.”

Arthur thought about Alfred’s words the entire time they got ready to clean themselves. He had spoken unusually firmly, and Arthur didn’t know what it meant. Was he upset somehow? Had Arthur done something wrong? He didn’t know, and he felt guilty for a reason he couldn’t place. As he shed his tunic, he glanced and suddenly noticed he had goosebumps all over his arms. He only hesitated for a moment, but quickly got ready the rest of the way for their shower.

The water ran hot at first. and Arthur kept it that way until the room was so filled with steam that they could hardly see one another. Then, Arthur made the water cold so Alfred could get clean first.

He stood back, observing silently while Alfred scrubbed at his hair, and carefully took care of his wings. How faintly familiar it felt, to bare himself to someone else, and yet how foreign it must have felt, for Alfred to force himself to be so vulnerable in front of him. Arthur couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why Alfred could possibly be so nervous. He wished there was something he could do, but he supposed he was doing all he could by standing back.

After cleaning himself for a bit, Alfred went still for a while, just hanging his head under the flow of the cold water. His pale back gleamed in the faint light like platinum, nearly flawless if it weren’t for a few small scars scattered about. Arthur watched him curiously for any sign of movement, and began to think Alfred had fallen asleep while standing there. He smiled a little bit, suddenly filled with a very warm feeling.

“Arthur?” Alfred’s quiet voice startled Arthur a little.

Arthur swallowed thickly. “Yes?”

“Could you…” Alfred trailed off for a moment, and Arthur could hear him, see him take a deep breath. The light moved so delicately across his muscled back from just an action as simple as breathing in and out. Arthur was mesmerised. “C-could you, um...Wash my back?”

He responded after just a moment to process the request. “Of course.” he answered lowly, reaching for a cloth and soap. The water was cold, a shock to his hands, but he continued despite not wanting to be near it.

Approaching carefully, Arthur gently soaped up the cloth and began rubbing it smoothly up and down and across Alfred’s bare back. Upon contact, Alfred jumped a little, but held still. Arthur noticed Alfred wasn’t holding himself with as much confidence as usual. In fact, he seemed to be shaking a little.

The water slowly washed the soap away, in glittering trails down Alfred’s muscled back. Arthur’s hands replaced the cloth after a bit, ignoring the cold. “It’s just me.” he murmured to Alfred, touching him softly and trying to coax him into relaxing. He traced the indents of Alfred’s spine. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

Arthur watched, as Alfred swallowed nervously, and nodded shakily. “Y-yea.” he whispered, almost rasped in reply. “Okay.’

Gradually, Alfred did relax, and Arthur was glad when he could feel the tension just dissipate, washed away along with all the dirt of the day. He continued to feel Alfred, to explore this new intimacy, despite how the cold was beginning to make him shake. By the time Alfred was all clean, Arthur’s feathers were all puffed out and he shivered uncontrollably.

Alfred noticed and turned in Arthur’s arms, shifting close to where Arthur could feel the faint body heat from him. From that, they ended up in a tight embrace, laughing, at least until one of them managed to switch the water from cold to hot and turn so Arthur could get clean. Then, Alfred could try his hand at cleaning Arthur, which he did a little clumsily at first. Mostly because he discovered Arthur was a little ticklish on his sides.

As the steam rose, so did their moods, as they played around with one another under the water. It had to move out of the shower once Arthur figured out that Alfred was far more ticklish than he was.

Arthur’s wings and cheeks were rosy and warm by the time they stumbled back to the bed, after dressing(for Alfred’s sake) to continue playing and enjoying themselves. The tickling and the teasing kept Arthur distracted from the cold and the anticipation, the dread that merely lingered at the back of his mind. Somehow, he could keep himself from thinking about it too hard.

“Mmh, go to sleep,” Alfred murmured into him, a fading smile remaining as collateral damage, evidence of the last tickle assault he’d received. He relaxed when Arthur stroked his hair instead of tickling him again, and cuddled up close. His hands found their way to one of Arthur’s flushed wings, and he petted it absentmindedly. “If...If this is our last night here, I want us both to get plenty of sleep.”

Sighing appreciatively for the treatment his wings were getting, Arthur nodded. “Yes,” he agreed tiredly. “Alright, let’s...Let us...Sleep…” he began feeling himself fading out, and did his best to move up close to Alfred. His hands went from Alfred’s hair to his back, where he tried to keep them moving in a soothing motion.

Alfred closed his eyes, and worked with Arthur until they were comfortable. With a small movement of his hand, Arthur conjured a soft light around them, like an aura, and Alfred only opened his eyes a little to see it. The magic helped to cool Alfred, and warm Arthur, and didn’t require much thought at all.

But it still required thought. Arthur found that it helped Alfred in falling asleep quite quickly, but it wouldn’t be as easy with himself. He felt like he was floating; he was so tired, so sleepy and only vaguely conscious. Alfred’s even breathing was relaxing to listen to.

Arthur blinked slowly and looked outside at the cool night.

He noticed, curiously, that the light of his magic was reflecting faintly off glittering white tendrils out there, like rain but much slower.

He then realised he was seeing snow for the first time.

O~o~O

Francis felt like he was vibrating.

In his dizzied state, he could only partly register Feliciano’s horrified expression below him to his left, and lots of oddly coloured lights that looked nothing like the magical ones he knew.

On his leg, there was air moving, but despite that, it felt awfully warm and uncomfortable, and he was sweating because of it. He was also breathing very rapidly, perhaps to compensate for the blaring pain in both temples. His head felt very warm, almost like it was burning…

A blurry figure lowered itself into view, and seemed to grin wickedly at him. Involuntarily, Francis felt his muscles tense and his breathing become even harder. Shifting his arms and legs revealed to him that he was restrained and unable to move. Restrained quite tightly, actually.

“Terribly sorry to wake you.” the figure said, and Francis struggled to focus on the man before him. He could faintly see green and red, but perhaps those were just some of the blinking lights. “It is about time, I suppose. Don’t worry. It will be over soon.” the figure leered, and Francis choked on a gasp when he recognised the face of a demon, a red haired and green eyed demon that he thought he had come to know very well.

“Ar-Arthur?” he asked weakly, his voice hoarse and thick. “N-no, please...You don’t understand...I-I-”

Laughter interrupted him, loud, raucous laughter that make sharp chills run up Francis’s spine. The laughter went on uncontrollably, a delighted, horrible sound. “Don’t be ridiculous!” the voice giggled daintily, and a hand reached to stroke Francis’s matted hair. It was then the true colours finally came into focus, and Francis realised he was only seeing brown and silver before him, Camael. “Isn’t that simply wonderful, Feliciano? Look, he’s so delusional that he thought I was Arthur!”

The answer came out meekly, sounding choked. “Y-yes, sir.”

Francis winced through his panting, discovering that it was becoming very hard to breathe. He felt a pressure in his head, and the pain made his face twist with distress. “Feli, Feli I’m sorry,” he said in a thick voice. “I’m so, so sorry, Feli…”

Camael’s laughter came again, but quieter this time. Almost gentle. “Ah, dear Francis. You don’t know this feeling, do you? Of course not, frustration and regret are emotions unknown to angels. Especially good little angels like yourself. I suppose the time you’ve spent conspiring against me has led you to act without really thinking, as you have no experience with anger or with controlling yourself. I can forgive ignorance.” he smiled thoughtfully, and reached to touch Francis’s chin very softly. Like he was a fragile creature who could be carelessly broken. “However...If I did forgive you for what you attempted to do, surely you understand that would leave a poor example to the other skeptical ones like you. I’m very sorry for this, Francis, I really am. I am not angry with you, I’m just...Disappointed.”

Gasping as the lights suddenly got brighter, Francis shut his eyes as tightly as he could in response to the burning. But it was in vain; the lights still invaded his sight and his mind, and he started yelling out in pain. The burning became even more intense, and Francis yelled louder.

A calm voice murmured in his ear, ignoring his pained cries. “My poor little Francis. Do not worry, my child, as long as you endure this, no one else will have to.”

The voice left, and Francis screamed.

O~o~O

Arthur discovered very quickly that snow was not something to be trifled with.

Initially, he was fascinated with it, as it was a beautiful sight to behold. But upon finding out just how unpleasant it felt to touch, Arthur decided right then that he did not like snow.

Alfred didn’t seem bothered by it, in fact the temperature seemed very nice to him. Arthur was jealous at how easily he strode through it, how thoughtlessly he could touch it. It seemed it was going to be a whole new level of trying not to show his discomfort to the other demons in their group.

They gathered their things. Little time was spent saying private goodbyes to the place, as both Arthur and Alfred were too numb and tired to really feel much as they left. They flew off into the snowy city to find the rest of the army, led only by a hand-drawn map Arthur had. In the distance, Arthur could see their home fading in the thick weather. He didn’t look back for long.

The group was at Arthur’s alleyway, as he expected. Once they’d noticed Alfred and himself, they tried to offer smiles, but the mood was just as cold as the season. None of them could stop thinking of what they’d seen yesterday.

After drawing a diagram in the snow, Arthur did his best to explain the general direction they would be going, but he found that his mouth was becoming numb and words were becoming harder to form. He tried not to notice the concerned looks he was getting when he couldn’t quite pronounce ‘second circle.’

He told them they were going to find a place far from where they were, a good distance from any city or form of civilisation in hell. Ideally, they would find a place with several places to hide, and comfortable places to sleep. He would figure out a way to train them from there, but as long as they had sustainable food and water, they would be fine.

By the time he finished, he knew he was visibly shaking, and needed to find a way to calm down before anyone said anything. He looked around for a moment, and realised then that with the stark contrast of the snow, there was no hiding what was wrong. Everything around him was white, so every colour that made up his person were clear. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

“Arthur…” Basch said slowly. “Your cheeks and your nose are really red.”

A few others nodded in agreement, and Arthur’s eyes widened. He was certain he felt his blood finish freezing when he noticed Ivan’s cold look.

Alfred leapt into action, approaching Arthur quickly and brushing snow off his shoulders. “Haha, would you look at that! His lips are kinda blue too, isn’t that weird?” he laughed, forcing the biggest smile he could. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it!”

Some of the demons laughed along nervously, not quite understanding. But Arthur knew he was in deep trouble when Ivan’s expression didn’t change. His fist closed itself abruptly, and Alfred’s voice cut off with it. “Alfred.” he whispered. “Alfred, cut it out. We have to go, all of us.”

Still trying to keep up his smile, Alfred did well to hide his alarm nodded along, waiting for Arthur to release his fist, the magic silence before he tried to speak again. “Yea, we gotta go. He’s right everyone, are we all ready?” He looked around to make sure no one protested.

“There’s no going back from here,” Arthur warned quietly. And still, no one said anything. “Alright. Let’s go.”

O~o~O

It felt...suffocating.

He’d never felt anything like it before. He was hollow, like he’d been gutted completely. Nothing in him remained.

He choked on something in his hoarse throat.

Any begging or pleading was quelled on his tongue before he could even think to speak. His breath rattled lightly in his chest like a fluttering feather.

‘What’s h-happening...To me…?’

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S ALIVE!! ALIIIIVVEEEE!! Yes hello it's me, it's been at least a million years and I am back :'D
> 
> So around this time last year, I was completing the Blackout arc and surging into this new Resistance arc. Finishing this arc was the plan this time, but I mean, things happened, I had a super intense block, and this took like four months to finish writing. So I'm not even halfway done with this arc but hopefully I'll be around more often to put some more work into it ^^'
> 
> I'm back in school! If that explains anything. I mean, it's only the most productive time of the year for me, which is why maybe I'm finally writing again. It's also the most stressful.
> 
> Catching up(I don't even remember when I published Ruled By Secrecy :O), I have started school again, learning more about myself and people around me, and I'm getting pretty good at my running! In fact, the reason I could finish this today is probably because I just got back from Regionals for Cross Country yesterday, and I qualified for State!!! Which is huge, I mean, I did it last year as well but it's still a pretty big accomplishment for someone in this state to be fast enough :D Anyway, so today is my off day after an entirely too stressful week and I'm finally able to relax and do what I want XD
> 
> I've had a good time in between the last chapter and this one, actually! I hope y'all have too, I miss being online :')
> 
> So! The songs for this and the next chapter have changed up so many times, it'd been hard deciding for sure what I want XD But this chapter is From the Inside, and, like a pumpkin this time of year, both Arthur and Francis are having their insides ripped out and replaced with something different. Arthur is discovering just how much he relies on Alfred, and Francis is learning about just how cruel the world can be...
> 
> Happy Halloween! I hope everyone dresses up to scare the Angelicans and Demonocrats away!! Especially Camael :O
> 
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Linkin Park, Hetalia, Halloween, Pumpkins, or dead demon ladies ^^'''
> 
> I'll try my best to be back soon, and I hope you have a wonderful Halloween from The Messenger! :D
> 
> -Madz


	7. In Between Part One

O~o~O

Time passed as if it were fighting through molasses.

“Let’s go.” Arthur repeated, his voice a little less sure than it was before. He looked away from Ivan, who was eyeing him with a cold expression. But he could still feel Ivan’s dark eyes digging into the back of his head, prodding him with accusation. There was nothing he could say or do that wouldn’t make the situation even worse, and he knew Alfred was becoming desperate to help when he went silent trying to think of something to say.

No one moved, everyone seemed focused on Ivan’s apparent challenge to Arthur, and Arthur couldn’t ignore it when not a single demon made a move to take off with him. Slowly, he steeled himself and turned around to face Ivan, bearing that harsh look he was getting. All it did was make Alfred a little more distressed.

The tense period of silence did nothing for him. “H-hey, what are we waiting for?” Alfred laughed nervously. “Artie’s just a little cold, right? There’s nothing wrong with that! I think we should just get going so we’re not around when the Demonocracy comes looking for-”

“I think now’s a good time we ask Paranomia what he’s hiding from us.” Ivan spat, approaching Arthur until they were face-to-face, their noses nearly touching. Startled, the other demons backed away a few steps, trapping them both in a circle where everything they did was watched upon. “I’ve had enough of you and all of your lies.”

Arthur kept his gaze steady and cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said lowly, venomously.

Ivan snarled, wrinkling his nose and revealing his fangs. Both Arthur and Ivan could hear Alfred trying to coax them apart, but nothing could break the challenge, not then. Arthur struggled to not turn and tell Alfred it was okay, that he could handle it. But he couldn’t shake the sinking dread in his gut that this wasn’t going to end well. The air felt heavier and colder, and the skies above them darkened and swelled.

His mind went through countless scenarios, trying to think his way out of the direction he knew they were headed. But he couldn’t concentrate with Alfred trying to get their attention, so he had no choice but to pretend to crack his knuckles to disguise the correlation of his closing his fist to Alfred’s sudden silence, and hope no one would think too much about the magic they could probably sense. For a moment, he reflected on how grateful he was that he learned how to make Alfred shut up. And still, Ivan persisted. “That is what a liar would say.” he spat, raising his wings.

Arthur responded by raising his chin and puffing out his chest, eyes flashing with indignance. “I do not need to listen to your blind accusations.” he sniffed to resist a sneeze from the cold and opened his fist once Alfred got the point to be quiet. Then, he turned around, aiming to stalk out of the circle. But none of the demons moved for him.

“Blind?!” Ivan bristled, suddenly rushing forward. “It is you who is blind! You cannot see what you are becoming!” Arthur turned around just in time to see Ivan lunging for him.

“Don’t lay a hand on him, goddammit!”

Both Arthur and Ivan stopped in mid attack to see Alfred, practically trembling with anger, and now everyone’s eyes were on him. Arthur was the first to recognise that wild look in his eyes, and his heart missed a beat. Alfred didn’t seem sure if he should approach or back away, but the way he was looking at Ivan made it clear he would like nothing more than to rip him to shreds.

Arthur took a shaky breath, and his eyes flickered to Ivan. “We will finish this later.” he muttered, before turning to carefully go to Alfred. Then, it seemed to click for everyone else what was happening, because the demons began murmuring nervously and backing away, creating a wider circle.

Still feeling Ivan staring at him, Arthur tried his best to focus on just Alfred, while his wings and legs tensed, and a cold sweat formed along his forehead. The demon before him was absolutely livid, not moving his hard stare from Ivan. Carefully, Arthur walked through the tension and swallowed nervously when he was close enough to touch Alfred. “Oi, listen to me. Just me. It’s okay, everything’s fine. I’m not hurt, see?” he reached out with a shaking hand to Alfred’s. He could hardly hear himself over the blood roaring in his ears. “Take my hand, Alfred, I promise it’s okay.”

For just a moment, he was convinced Alfred wasn’t going to take his hand. He was taking long, shuddering breaths, and each one only created more agitation in the demons around them. But, after shutting his eyes tightly, and shaking his head faintly from side to side, he finally rested his hand in Arthur’s.

“Good, good,” Arthur breathed, his pounding heart finally slowing. He recognised that Alfred was doing his best to convey that it was safe for Arthur, and now all he had to do was calm him down enough so it was safe for everyone else too. That could only be done if Arthur was patient and relaxed himself. So, he swallowed any doubts in himself and fears of the situation waiting for him. He stepped closer so he could force Alfred to focus on him and him only. “Listen to me, Alfred, please, everything’s fine. I’m okay, you’re okay, we can do this, yes? I’m with you, we’re in this together.” he murmured softly.

Alfred opened his eyes in an incredibly intense look right at Arthur, and finally gave a begrudging nod. Arthur smiled a little when Alfred then lowered his eyes to the ground and petulantly shifted closer, so Arthur heaved a relieved sigh and pulled Alfred’s head down to his shoulder to embrace him.

“...How did you do that?” Arthur heard Ludwig’s voice speak up behind them, quiet and reluctant. Trying to keep himself and Alfred serene and calm, Arthur closed his eyes and smiled, holding Alfred firmly in his arms. “He was about to...There’s no way anything could have stopped it…”

There were some general noises of agreement and confusion. Rage was a rare thing to witness, and no one had ever seen it stopped before, Arthur realised, and set his jaw when he came to realisation that he was really only making his case worse by saving everyone. But he just couldn’t put everyone in danger...Though, he didn’t know if it was actually possible to stop Rage once it started. Alfred had once explained something along those lines to him but he couldn’t quite remember then…

Ludwig and Ivan were discussing something behind them too quietly for Arthur to hear. “Arthur,” Alfred whispered, making Arthur look down. “Arthur, I...I have to leave, but I can’t, because if I leave they might…”

Arthur shook his head, and frowned skeptically. “What do you mean?” Alfred let out a breath he was holding in and held on to Arthur like he was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I don’t think you stopped it...But I can’t leave you here to them.” he reiterated more stiffly this time, gritting his teeth. “I can still feel it there...Urgh…”

Startled, Arthur quickly tried to figure out what their options were, and started petting Alfred’s head a little roughly without meaning to. They couldn’t both leave, because that would only make Ivan suspect them more and possibly split up the group at the worst possible time to lose anyone. Alfred had a point; they couldn’t separate because either Alfred raged on the army or the army possibly ganged up on Arthur. They couldn’t leave the first circle now that Alfred was at risk of Raging and Ivan was suspecting Arthur of the truth. But they couldn’t stay because the Demonocracy was coming…“Dammit we don’t have time for this…” he muttered, and Alfred nodded helplessly against him.

The muttering behind them got more prevalent, and Arthur shut his eyes tightly, his hands shaking a little while he firmly kept Alfred close. It was getting darker, and snowing a little more heavily than before. But, it didn’t feel as much like it was snowing; snow was much softer and Arthur felt like sharp little prickles were raining upon them. They stung his face and made it harder to breathe.

“Paranomia.” Ivan said behind him, getting his attention. His voice was quiet, perhaps out of consideration for Alfred who everyone was watching as he gradually breathed heavier and heavier. Arthur held him close almost desperately, thinking of both Alfred and the demons surrounding them. Every single one of them was in danger for more than one reason. “Paranomia, I will not ask again what you are hiding from us. There’s no use in denying it now: you’re different. We should all be dead right now but somehow you’re keeping Alfred calm. I can no longer follow a dishonest leader without question. It would be defying the very values you try to teach us.”

Arthur gritted his teeth when the others agreed quietly. “You’ll have to. We don’t have a choice, Ivan, we have to go now, I can explain everything later, y-”

“I will not take another step away from this circle until I know what you’re hiding.” Ivan interrupted him coldly, and Arthur cursed under his breath. Alfred was only growing more agitated because of the rise in conflict yet again. He clung tighter to Arthur, burying his face in his shoulder and murmuring “No, no, no, no…”

Not knowing how to answer, Arthur started saying quiet, soothing things to Alfred to distract everyone. He could feel them, all of them watching his every move and scrutinising it to his very breathing.

He couldn’t mess up now.

Slowly, he pulled Alfred more comfortably against him and allowed the demon’s trembling to disguise his own from the cold and the situation. He was still shivering, but having Alfred pressed up against him helped a little. Taking, a reassuring, shuddering breath, he turned his head slightly and raised his voice so they could all hear. “We do not have time to wait. The Demonocracy is coming, we have to leave. Now.” he said calmly.

Ivan hissed behind him. “On what grounds? The death of one of their own? How can you trust that?” even some of the other demons seemed surprised by that answer, but Arthur didn’t falter.

“We have every reason to trust her; she died by crying. Would any of you like to meet the same fate?” Arthur didn’t look around for an answer. “Her last words were a warning to us. We cannot stay here over something so trivial, there’s too much at stake.”

Arthur could nearly feel Ivan’s outrage, despite how contained it was. “Trivial?” he asked. “You think this is trivial? I’m questioning you and you call it trivial?!” he laughed bitterly. “You’re even more foolish than I thought.”

Not quite, Arthur thought, and resisted a grimace. “We do not have time to wait.” he repeated himself.

Footsteps approached from behind, slow and deliberate. “Oh, I think we do,” Ivan growled, taking his time to come near. “Your own values are working against you, don’t you see? You tell us we can’t trust anyone in power and to question anyone with authority. You’re practically asking us to question you! And how are you handling that? You’re going in circles and hoping to reason with us that way. It’s not getting you anywhere; we’re still here, and we’re not leaving until you answer me.”

Lowering his head, Arthur looked at the ground and let out a long sigh. As if he could sense what Arthur was thinking, Alfred gripped Arthur’s arm and looked up at him, shaking his head. “No,” he whispered. “Please, Arthur.”

Alfred was still trembling from the effort of suppressing his Rage. Trying to calm him, Arthur rubbed his back and smiled at him a little sadly.

There were larger things at stake. Nothing really mattered, nothing right then.They could all die within the next few moments and even that would be insignificant compared to what they should be concerned about. He looked into Alfred’s pale eyes for the reflection of the space all around the army, and the cold grey skies of Hell.

He knew what he had to do.

O~o~O

“How are you feeling?”

…

…

…

“...How are you today?”

The questions echoed gently around the small room, and was answered with the soft, mechanical shifting of the contraptions in the back. The only answer was a whirring sigh, and faint flickering in the colours of the small lights. They blinked impatiently

A small smile came to Camael’s face. “Oh, you do want out, don’t you?” the figure jolted weakly in a reaction, a result of his rerouted nervous system. It seemed to seemed to sense Camael’s increasing smugness. “Hnn, you’ve made such remarkable progress. I’m admittedly surprised, considering your firm rebellious attitude. Perhaps your treatment was more powerful than I thought.”

It was impossible to tell if the soft clicks and flickers were out of bitterness or were merely an acknowledgement.

Still, Camael gave a satisfied hum and casually crossed the room towards the figure. At times before, the figure would have been jerking and the whirring would have gotten louder and the reactor would make noises like an alarm. Bathed in red by the blinding lights, Camael would laugh. Now, the figure hung its head, and was still. The lights were faint, the gears turned indifferently.

“At last.” he let out a pleased sigh. The figure appeared almost calm, if uncomfortable. But that wasn’t what Camael was looking for.

He may have still been adapting to his new form, but he seemed ready enough.

Camael grinned. “Rise.” he told the figure.

Slowly, miraculously, Francis uncurled himself and began to get to his knees. In a mechanical fashion, imperfect but still strong, he got to his feet and met Camael’s eyes in an unfeeling stare. Then, he made the angelican salute.

Camael nodded in approval. “Perfect.”

Outside, the angels lived in oblivious harmony, as always. No one thought anything of Francis’s strange outburst all those moons ago, in fact, it seemed like the witnesses had mostly forgotten about it completely. The choirs and the cathedrals and all the peace seemed perfectly undisturbed. It was a perfect kingdom of compliant little lambs, just as God had intended.

And Camael was loving it. All was well in Heaven as far as he was concerned, as far as the angels were concerned. All was well to all but one.

O~o~O

Alfred shook his head vigorously. “Arthur, no, please, you can’t! They won’t understand!” he pleaded, his eyes wide with horror. He shook Arthur by his shoulders, and looked around when the others reacted to his raised voice.

All around them, the air felt heavier, and of course the other demons were very curious to find out just what in the hell Alfred was talking about. Alfred met eyes with Basch, with Ludwig, with the others who were so close before, and now so far in nothing but a moment. Their faces held doubts, questions that had been eating away at the back of their minds for so long. Only now, their complacency with their new leader had been interrupted and they wouldn’t follow without answers. Alfred wanted to beg them to understand that they couldn’t understand, and keep Arthur from making a huge mistake.

But, Arthur wouldn’t be moved. He moved Alfred aside roughly to face Ivan and the other demons with a cold expression, silencing their whispers with nothing but a look.

“Understand what?” Ivan sneered, seeing that he had won. “Understand the lies? The-”

“Shut up, Ivan.” Arthur sighed, looking right at him. “Alfred’s right. None of you will understand. But you leave me no choice.”

The silence faded again with the confused murmurs from everyone else. Alfred rushed up and held Arthur’s arms at his sides desperately, but it was obvious that Arthur had made up his mind. “Please Arthur, please no. They’ll kill you!” Alfred begged.

Arthur turned just slightly to look at Alfred before calmly looking away again, any hint of caring lost. “They can’t kill me.” was all he said.

His eyes glowed and his hands rose, and Alfred backed off helplessly as Arthur began to transform.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Ah, man it's been forever hasn't it? Was the last update really Christmas?? Haha, I'm so sorry to any loyal readers, it's been quite a year so far.
> 
> Did everyone hear about Chester Bennington?? For those who don't know, pretty much half of this story is inspired by Linkin Park songs, and Chester was the lead singer of Linkin Park. He committed suicide, and pretty much everyone in my generation is affected greatly because a lot of us have been through hard times, emotional turmoil, and perhaps have even contemplated suicide before. It's very sad that we all have lost such a bold hero to our time. Wherever he may be, I hope he's found what he was looking for.
> 
> It's been awhile since I've written, I've barely touched Messenger all year. A lot happened in my life, not anything bad, just a lot of stuff that's made it hard to think about writing. I mean, I figured out what I want to do with my life, I found love, and I've grown considerably...And I'm not done yet!! Updates will still be few and far in between possibly, but I have not given up on Messenger!
> 
> I won't even bother with the disclaimer anymore, everyone knows I don't own anything XD
> 
> I hope all of you are having a wonderful year!! Keep doing you, and I'll try to stick with this as often as possible. Love y'all!
> 
> ~Madz


	8. In Between Part Two

O~o~O

“Let me apologize to begin with.”

Shocked silence was the only thing that met those words, and Arthur was relieved for it. Everyone around him was too stunned to react and he needed to take advantage of that before they had enough time. He stepped forward, shuddering and red from the cold.

“Let me apologize for what I’m about to say, because trying to be someone else was harder than it seemed, and...somehow I got caught up in between.” He turned, meeting eyes with all of the demons around him and spreading his arms to show he meant no harm or ill-will. He was completely defenseless, and he assumed everyone could tell he had goosebumps all over and the snow was making it difficult for him to move or speak.

But it didn’t take long for Ivan to react.

“You!” he snarled, lunging forward and grabbing Arthur by his wings. “You fiend! You liar! You false shepherd!” he forced Arthur to his knees and yanked on his hair to make the angel face him.

None of the other demons knew how to react and watched, all except for Alfred, who yelled out in Arthur’s defense. However, his voice was lost to a harsh gust of wind that made Arthur flinch and shiver harder. His tunic and wings didn’t do much once the cloth and feathers were wet with snow. But, he didn’t resist at all. Ivan’s grip slackened as he observed Arthur’s apparent surrender.

Slowly, Arthur reached up and gently rested his hand on top of Ivan’s, as he still had a hold on Arthur’s hair. “Do you feel this?” he asked Ivan delicately, in a voice too low for the others to hear. “Yes, I have hidden this part of me from you, but it was not my intention to fool you.” Slowly, Ivan let go of Arthur and backed up a step, wide eyed and shaken from the warmth he could feel.

Arthur struggled to stand. His hands and feet were losing feeling and it felt like every inch of his body was being stung by snow. But he wouldn’t let the cold keep him down. Once he was up, he raised his chin and looked at all the demons, choosing his words carefully.

“Yes, I am an angel! Behold, my weakened state, for I cannot tolerate the cold like a true demon.” His feathers began to stick to each other and with every breath he shook more and more. “But I am not your enemy. Everything you thought you knew about me before is still true, the only difference is my true identity. I am not a false shepherd. My truths and goals are the same as they were, and all along I have been trying to lead you to freedom.”

Ivan’s nose wrinkled and he huffed, now hesitant to attack. “Freedom? An angel’s freedom is not the same as a demon’s freedom, Para-...Angel.”

Letting out a weak laugh, Arthur looked to Ivan. “My name is and always was Arthur, and I was still an angel when I earned the name Paranomia. I have always been the same. And I am not leading you to an angel’s freedom or a demon’s freedom; I have defected from both. If you don’t believe me, do you see a halo upon my head?”

Some of the demons looked at each other at this remark, looked up, looked around, and backing away somewhat. Not from Arthur, not because there was no halo, but because behind Arthur, Alfred struggled to control his anger. He trembled with fury, the rage building up with no one there to stop it. But he tried. He fell to his knees and reached desperately for the snow all around him, matting himself with it to cool the heat building up inside of his chest. The harder he tried, the more the heat was provoked. Alfred breathed heavier, his eyes looking wilder, as if reflecting his focus melting away. His body gave in to the Rage, consuming him from the inside.

“How can we trust you?!” Ivan demanded, becoming a little bolder. He took a step closer to Arthur, reasserting himself, and puffing up as if to intimidate Arthur. “You can’t expect-”

“You!” the whole ground seemed to shake beneath them all with that voice, and Arthur turned around to see Alfred developing into his Rage form. Everyone went pale, except for Arthur, who faced Alfred calmly. Alfred rested his red, predatory gaze on Ivan, and spoke in a disjointed growl. “You’ve gotta get it inside...Push it back down, back down…” Alfred’s whole from trembled, containing a fury that could not be explained. Every fiber of his being twitched and grew with hatred. Arthur could practically feel Alfred’s new blood boiling.

His explosive Rage was imminent and Arthur knew it. Raising his chin and setting his jaw, Arthur folded his wings and looked fixedly on the massive demon. “‘Push it back down,’” he repeated, walking towards Alfred. “Back down, back down…”

He successfully caught Alfred’s attention, the bloodthirsty red eyes suddenly trained on him. Arthur held up his hands, as if approaching some wild animal while he dared to go closer and closer. The others all watched with sheer horror as he, the frozen angel, walked fearlessly to the promise of certain death. A gust of wind stung his face, and he blinked up at Alfred, squinting through the snow.

By this point, Alfred was more than twice as big as Arthur, and he looked down with his head tilted. For a cold eternity, the giant monster eyed Arthur without feeling or meaning. Everyone else was frozen with anticipation, just waiting to be frightened by any sudden movement, all except Arthur who looked serenely upon the beast. He kept the massive demon still with just a look, his breathing in perfect time with Alfred’s. He was tranquil and magnificent, an angel who stood alone but proud. The unfeeling red eyes then changed. Something in him recognized Arthur, and he crawled closer. Arthur beckoned him with widespread arms. His hands glowed, and Alfred moved closer and closer until Arthur could touch him.

And that was what he did. Arthur rested a hand on Alfred’s shoulder, relieving the demon of the hatred he harbored. The demons all around could feel the chilling desire to kill melt away like the snow from Arthur’s magic.

Everyone’s eyes were wide as they watched Alfred slowly return to himself. The thick, spiny tail, the long, curled horns, the red eyes, all disappeared in a long, frozen moment.

The wind made the silence roar in all their ears. Alfred’s breathing was heavy for a little bit, and he rested his weight on Arthur until he could catch it again. Arthur turned to look over his shoulder at Ivan, whose eyes were still wide.

“If you’ll allow me to explain, I will tell you everything.” Arthur said, absentmindedly rubbing Alfred’s back.

Ivan shook his head as if coming out of a trance, and rubbed the back of his head. “No- no, of course, go right ahead.” he conceded in a small voice.

It was a victory. Alfred weakly laughed a little disbelievingly against him, and Arthur finally was able to take a deep breath, blinking up at the sky and thanking whatever powers let him luck out of this mess. “I didn’t think that would work,” he breathed solemnly, shivering a little more. “It was just my best bet.”

“I’ll take your best bet any day,” Alfred whispered back, still grinning. He slowly recovered his strength, and thought to rub Arthur’s arms a little bit. “Maybe you should switch back so your fingers don’t fall off.”

Nodding, Arthur let out a sigh and patted Alfred’s head. “I’m thinking if I can get them all to follow me, I can find a warmer place so I can explain better. I can barely feel my limbs as it is.”

He sincerely hoped the demons could be happy with what they could see for at least a little while; they might have forgotten he was cold, and by the time he finished his whole story, he feared he might be permanently frozen. Once he was sure Alfred could stand on his own, he turned and addressed the army. “I’m sure you’re wondering just exactly what the hell am I doing here as an angel, and I will tell you. You have my word. But I can’t do it here, I’m losing feeling from the snow. We have to go, we should have left already. Once we find someplace slightly warmer, we can stop and I’ll tell you everything. You all deserve the truth. Is that acceptable?”

The demons all looked at each other, not seeming to oppose, but not necessarily agreeing either. After looking to Ludwig, Basch, and some others, it was Ivan who finally gave him an answer. “That...Will do.” he agreed with a nod, observing Arthur’s freezing figure.

“Good.” Arthur replied, raising his hands to transform. The light surrounded him, and once again, everyone stared at him in awe. They watched his white, pure, angelic form turn dark and sleek, like they remembered. He looked at them all, once the transformation was over, and motioned up. “Let’s go.”

Flying was painful at first, but slowly, through his grimace at the cold, Arthur relaxed once he could finally feel his wings moving. He led them to the East, sparing a glance backwards in the direction of home. He had already made peace with the fact that he would never return, he would never know that comfort again. With a glance to his right, he had the feeling maybe Alfred hadn’t. “Alfred.” he called out, seeing him face West again. “It’s time to look forward now.”

Alarmed, Alfred swiveled his head to look at Arthur for a moment, and then smiled a little sadly. “Yeah. Sure. Will do.”

Arthur nodded to him, and then faced forward again himself, seeing the cold fog ahead.

“Er, Paranomia?”

Glancing to his left, Arthur acknowledged Ivan. “Yes?”

Ivan sighed, flying closer to Arthur and lowering his voice. “Paranomia, I’m...Sorry. I jumped to conclusions and my first instinct is to attack. You have tried to train that out of us and I have failed you as a comrade. I questioned you when you were the one trying to help us. For that I apologize.”

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur nodded to Ivan. What a heartfelt apology, and he genuinely meant it, too. Arthur could see the nervous regret in Ivan’s dark eyes. “Don’t even fret it.” he replied. “You were right, in a way. To question me. I suppose you all were going to find out I’m different one way or another, though I suspect you knew it from the beginning.” he smirked.

That got a little smile, and Ivan relaxed a little bit. “You have always been just slightly strange. Before, I never said too much out of fear; you’re capable of bringing down a legion. But after following you for this long, I got bolder. You’ve made me stronger, and I’ve learned you don’t use your power without reason.”

Arthur frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ivan looked around as if trying to think of the proper words. “You...You aren’t rash or angry. It is in demon nature to react with violence when you’re unhappy. When I met you, you were not that way; you were more defensive. You didn’t need to assert yourself to prove you were better.”

“And now?” Arthur noticed Ivan had referred to the past.

Sighing slightly, Ivan smiled wryly at Arthur. “You are more aggressive. Quicker to react without as much reason. A good leader in a demon’s eyes, just different than before.”

“Well,” Arthur considered, thinking about Ivan’s hesitant answer. “Change is necessary. Discipline is important.”

Ivan nodded distantly. “Of course.” he said vaguely, and then flew back to where he was before, leaving Arthur to ponder on his own. He had to be more aggressive, didn’t he? The worlds weren’t going to wait on him, so he had to make his goals work and have the appropriate attitude.

They traveled further than Arthur remembered; he stopped seeing familiar landmarks, and the snow was beginning to get so thick that it obscured anything else he might recognize anyway. While he was warmer than before, his heart pumping blood fast because of the exercise, his fingers still ached with lack of feeling. He wasn’t sure if his nose was still attached, and he couldn’t help but squint through the snow because their speed made his eyes sting. Even his wings were beginning to go a little numb from the horned tips. But he could ignore the pain for now, it didn’t matter in the larger scope of things. He kept scanning what he could of the ground below, but most of what he spotted was barren land. No shelter could be seen.

Arthur flexed his fingers, and then brought his hands close to his mouth to blow on them in the hopes of making them warmer. He could see Alfred up ahead, flying slightly lower, probably to try and see the ground better. And, it didn’t look like he was the only one who was cold; looking around at everyone else too, Arthur could see the other demons weren’t flying as steadily as before. The deeper in hell they went, the more the chilly wind blew right through them.

“Paranomia!” he turned as he heard a voice call out. “I see caves below!”

Looking down, Arthur wasn’t sure he could spot any caves, but Elizaveta flew closer to him and pointed down. “There, you see the dark rocks that peek through the fog? There is a large cave with many tunnels down there, I’m sure of it.”

“You think so?” he looked at Elizaveta, and then down towards the caves she saw. “Alright. Head down! We have shelter!” he signaled and led the army to the strange rocks below. The ground approached fast, and the fog nearly blinded them as soon as they hit it. Arthur slowed a bit to save control, and shuddered hard when the thick, cold air hit him.

But soon enough, the dark rocks came into view, along with a broad opening that confirmed they were looking at a cave. Looking up, and over, Arthur saw it was a very big, very expansive cave. It seemed to go on and on...But before Arthur could try and see it all, he was reminded of how cold he was by a strong wind, and decided to go inside before he froze. Followed by the whole army, he dove into the dark mouth of the cave.

Upon landing, Arthur discovered they couldn’t see, but that was an easy fix. Using his magic, he illuminated the walls, to the surprise of the demons. They all looked around the area, a faint glimmer of wonder in their eyes as Arthur concentrated on creating organic light. The colors, he wasn’t sure they’d ever seen the colors he made before. It was golden and rosy and blue all at once, and the sight of it was physically calming to everyone watching. The light magic also created warmth around him, and he sighed in relief. His body was more fatigued than he originally thought. He spent a few more moments perfecting the light, coating the moss until it all glowed on its own.

All at once, his presence in the space returned to his body, and the demons started as if jolted out of a daydream. “There, that should be enough.” Arthur said, rubbing his hands. The dim light was enough for him to at least see everyone without straining. Alfred approached him when Arthur shut his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. The others demons looked on curiously while Alfred guided Arthur to a moss covered rock to sit.

“No, no, really, I’m fine, Alfred, don’t worry,” Arthur tried to insist, but Alfred ignored him and sat next to him, shedding his jacket. The demons were also gathering around, talking softly and observing. “I have to explain everything, I can’t rest just...yet.” he yawned suddenly, and quickly shook his head to try and dissipate the weariness. A few others around him laughed quietly. They hadn’t really seen him weak from lack of sleep like Alfred had.

While Alfred put his jacket on Arthur, the demons all slowly started sitting in a circle around him. Arthur assumed the light had calmed them, making them feel content and maybe even a little sleepy like him. They had just traveled a long distance as well, so that definitely had something to do with it. But Arthur also remembered how mild and gentle Alfred had been once he found out Arthur was an angel. Instead of being aggressive, they looked upon him like he was divine, like something precious and fragile. They really hadn’t seen an angel up close, Arthur realized.

Sighing, he noticed he was still in his demon form, and they probably needed to see him as an angel for the sake of being used to the sight of him. He handed Alfred’s jacket back to him, and quickly transformed, while all eyes were upon him. Then, quickly pulling the jacket back around himself, Arthur let out a rough sigh. “Alright, you’ll have to forgive me, the cold hurts me more in this form, and sleep is creeping up as the night wears on. But I will tell you everything.”

Everyone looked to be getting comfortable, ready for a long story. Some of them leaned back upon the rocks, spreading their own jackets or blankets they themselves had. Like a camp of sorts, Arthur had to appreciate their willingness to leave their homes just to follow some renegade angel. They must really have faith in him, but he found that ironic. Wasn’t he, as an angel, supposed to be the one with faith? Well, if there wasn’t a god to be faithful to, he supposed demons had to reverse the roles.

While they all settled down, he tried not to get too comfortable; if he did, he feared he might just fall asleep. Alfred shifted down so he was sitting on the floor of the cave, close to Arthur’s feet. With a nod to each other, Arthur looked up, prepared to tell his story.

“This all started in Heaven.” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully. “Heaven, the utopia we have all been rejected from. That golden, ideal world with no worries but what monsters might be down below. God and his angels, guardians or morality! Like a sort of made up law enforcement, heaven-sent by some magical authority, with a whole list of excuses as to why they’re better than any other living creature. A whole elaborate tale that gives them some higher purpose and value over anyone else. They called it the Bible.

“Some time ago, there was one angel in Heaven who asked more questions than he took answers. An angel who preferred time alone, who sat quietly and listened while everyone else spoke. He was different, but see, he was perfect because he was very skilled and very keen, and it must have been that which damned him. Because he was perfect for the grand mission. They told him he’d be a hero, that with his intelligence and ideals, surely he’d be able to stop the war between the Angelicans and the Demonocrats. And that young, naive angel believed it. That damned fool was me, and that mission was why I dove head first into Hell.

“They teach angels from the beginning of their existence to follow along, to accept everything just as it is and never wonder, why? The problem with me was, I was too curious. I wanted to know too many things. And perhaps I was just so intelligent that they perceived me as a threat. Not right then, mind you, young angels wouldn’t hurt anyone. But they most likely feared that in the future, I’d create greater problems. So, they told me I was going to save everyone and kicked me out of Heaven. For good, I might add. I don’t have my halo anymore. At first, I spent most of my time down here missing Heaven, and wanting nothing more than to go home. But I’ve grown since then.

“I still want to complete my mission. Yes it was false; they didn’t want me coming back, so they gave me something to do that couldn’t be done. End the war? It’s impossible, and not because of our differences. It’s impossible because the angels don’t want it to end. They want to fight to have an excuse to hate. And all the while, new angels will be drawn in until all of Heaven is just a fresh hell. A whited sepulchre shrouded in purity while containing mindless hatred. But, I believe I can stop the war, because I’m clever. And I have more freedom than they ever will.

“They made a mistake letting me live. They should have just killed me when they had the chance.” he muttered darkly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his arm. The demons were all murmuring and he lost his train of thought, thinking he had something else to say. But he couldn’t quite remember and decided it didn’t really matter anyway; he’d said what he needed to.

His wings started to droop, and some of the demons fell quiet when Ivan sat up and spoke. “You’re hardly an angel, and barely a demon. What does that make you?” he asked, and a few laughed in response.

They all waited, looking at Arthur, when he suddenly jolted and sat up in alarm. “What did you say?” he asked, earning some more laughter. He had dozed for just an instant, and felt the weight of the night on his eyes. He needed sleep. “What does that make…? Well, I don’t quite know. Alone, for the most part.” he mumbled tiredly.

He yawned and stretched his wings, and it looked like he wasn’t the only one getting tired. Some of the demons, and even Alfred were rubbing their eyes or settling in more comfortably. “I’ll answer anymore questions you...may have,” he yawned again. “But later, if you don’t mind.”

Alfred pulled out a small blanket he must have carried with him and wrapped it around Arthur’s legs, and then moved up and pulled Arthur’s body to lean on him “You gotta get some sleep,” he told Arthur quietly, and Arthur didn’t do much more than nod faintly in response, already drifting off.

The last thing he felt was Alfred adjusting him comfortably, and he faded out along with the lights. He felt like he was floating in water, the ripples moving his body but only in his head. A distant echo resounded, but it was only a dream, only a dream…

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man haha, it's been forever again, hasn't it? I'm sorry for all the distance between updates, it's been hard finding inspiration recently, and motivation to even open up the document to keep writing. Not sure if anyone remembered, but I did Christmas specials for Messenger twice, and missed out this year. That's because the chapter before last was last year's Christmas special...Yikes! I really need to work more on this story huh??
> 
> Anyway, I didn't really think this chapter was too exciting even though quite a bit happened. Arthur finally revealed himself to be stuck in between, in a sense! But he's also become a little full of himself honestly, and cruel in more ways than just one. Chapters after this one will be better, or so I hope in between school and whatnot.
> 
> So! I don't own Linkin Park or Hetalia or anything like that, just this crazy plot. Makoyana drew the cover!! I wish you all happy holidays and happy new year! Here's to 2018 being more productive than 2017, hopefully you'll be seeing more of me as the year goes on.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> ~Madz


	9. When They Come For Me

O~o~O

Deeper in the East than Arthur’s army was a huge, gothic cathedral built into the side of a mountain. From a distance, it appeared abandoned a long time ago and purposeless. Dead-looking vines and dust covered the outside walls, and there appeared to be cracks in the foundation. Even the wind was quiet, only whistling through the gaps and pillars with an eerie, haunting melody.

But inside, the dark church was rushing with life. Panicked demons flew about in a wild frenzy, commanders and soldiers unsure of their orders. Normally spotless marble floors were muddied, and the once chillingly silent halls were filled with urgent chatter.

The cathedral wasn’t usually in such a commotion. It was really just another base where demons trained to take on the armies of the angels, and all the demons were very militant and orderly. They had to be; it was the biggest base in all of upper Hell, and therefore home to the most important and powerful commanders. Yet now, with recent events affecting the Demonocracy’s numbers and bases, new demons were having to adjust and react to the one demon ultimately in charge of this place.

“What do you mean ‘they disappeared?!’ You let Paranomia destroy the base and get away?! It’s almost like you’re afraid of one demon!” the arc demon roared down at some trembling sub-commander. The massive demon leaned forward in his throne until his nose was nearly touching the other. His voice suddenly lowered. “You are not fit for command. There are many more willing to take your place. You are relieved from duty.” he spat.

The commander widened his eyes. “N-no sir, you don’t understand! Paranomia’s army was nowhere to be found!” he insisted, waving his arms desperately like it could illustrate his truth any better. “W-we couldn’t-...Gaak…!” the commander’s body fell to the ground, twitching, while the arc demon ripped his claws from his neck.

Sitting up, the arc demon wrinkled his nose in disgust at the body before him. “Paracelsus!” he barked, licking his claws clean. “Dispose of this disgrace to the Demonocracy. And bring me another commander. If Paranomia’s head is not brought to me by the end of the moon, you’re next.”

“Yes, your highness.” Paracelsus stood boredly from a small spot beside the arc demon. Without even a slight sign of revulsion, Paracelsus bent to grab the dead demon by his collar and started dragging him out of the room. The only sounds in the room were the faint growls of the arc demon and the lifeless body sliding across the marble floor.

It was a long walk to the cliffside; Paracelsus dragged the body through the large worship chambers and through a main hallway, even past some dungeons. The ground always seemed to be damp. However, especially in the lower floors, the dampness didn’t necessarily come from water.

Down in the lowest pits of the cathedral were the most important and dirty cells, harboring the most precious prisoners. There, captured angels lived out their lives, unaware that they were delicacies waiting to be consumed on special occasions.

The longer the angels were stuffed in their little cages, the more they became like mad birds, flapping about and beating upon the bars like animals. The rough stone floors were littered with bloodied feathers, as there wasn’t enough room to fully spread their wings. One damned soul had lost nearly all his feathers, and shuffled around his cage with bloody feet like a little pig. All of them had lost any concept of language or society, and resorted to behaviour even lower than that of a human. They screeched after Paracelsus, reaching their dirty arms out. Paracelsus didn’t even spare the prisoners a glance.

All the way on the other side of the cathedral, Paracelsus finally reached the cliffside. There, the open, sour air swelled and churned the clouds above them. The limp body of the dead commander looked blindly up at the dark skies one last time before Paracelsus unceremoniously heaved the body over the side of the cliff.

The body fell past the jagged rocks and the heavy wind fiercely tore through it. A strong gust whipped off one of the wings straight from its back. Paracelsus watched until it hit the water, a dark, magic lake that was home to centuries of rotting bodies. The shore was made entirely of bone.

Paracelsus nodded, and then turned around to head back inside.

O~o~O

The silhouette of a lone figure on a high cliff.

‘When the lights go out and we open our eyes…’

He looked up to the sky full of stars like he’d never seen. The colors were rich and full, shining in the sky and spreading to consume all that he could see. A violet curtain swelled and rippled up above like celestial water, majestic and entrancing. The aurora could distract him from the snow, the blaring cold that threatened to freeze his blood and turn his flesh to stone. He narrowed his eyes, looking for a sign from above, but the clouds and the snow were beginning to obscure the aurora.

‘Out there in the silence, I’ll be gone…’

The snow formed a figure above him, glowing the same violet color from the sky. Lightning tore through it, highlighting its dark shape through the dark clouds. He paled as the figure approached him, thunder rumbling like a threat all around him.

‘Let the sun fade out and another one rise…’

He saw the outline of angel wings, and with every beat of those massive wings, the aurora was absorbed into the figure. It was liberation; the figure raised its arms and looked up, having won the power of the earth and sky. It shed the darkness, and lifted the light upon the horizon.

Shielding his eyes as the newborn sun rose, he watched in fearful wonder as the light melted the dark and the cold. “You must be ready,” the figure told him, as it faded away into the light, dying in the new sun. “The time will come for you to step back in the dark again.”

‘Climbing through tomorrow, I’ll be…’

Thunder clapped. Arthur jolted.

He looked around blindly for a moment before he remembered he was in a cave. At the sound of voices, he breathed in very deeply and shifted. His body felt weak, muscles and joints sore with sleep and aching from resting in an odd position for so long. He grunted to himself and flexed his hands and wings to get the blood moving again. After sleeping on a bed for so long, his body had forgotten its previous conditioning of sleeping alone and cold in a barren alleyway.

Despite his discomfort, he did manage to sleep deeply and for that he was grateful. Only in his sleep was he free of the cold pit of hell.

He shuddered at the thought, and finally sat up.

The nearby voices were outside of the cave. The rest of the army must have been discussing what to do next because they were still too close to the first circle. Arthur started to stand up properly, rubbing at his eyes, when he felt a weight shift off his shoulders. Looking down, he realized he had been covered with several blankets, and others were placed around him. The demons must have moved them when they awoke and noticed he was still sleeping.

Arthur tried to ignore the rush of heat to his face and quickly stood to transform into his demon form once again.

Outside, Alfred and some of the others were standing in a circle, observing a crude map drawn into the ground with a stone. Many other demons were talking in small groups with each other, but Alfred, Ivan, Basch, Ludwig, and some others were more noticeable despite their hushed conversation. Arthur steeled himself for the bitter cold and went around to several other groups to see how they were all doing, moving around all the different parts of his army. He walked around as he usually did, a silent observer, but he noticed now they would all go quiet once the demons noticed him.

“Don’t mind me,” he’d say, and the groups would hesitantly continue talking, only they would each glance over at him every so often. Not like he wasn’t welcome, but more like they didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

He should have known. Revealing his true form to them changed the way they all saw him, creating a gap between what they knew before and what they could see when he was an angel. He sighed to himself, only seeing more work to get them to trust him again. After he visited all the little groups of his army, he straightened his jacket and finally circled back to the one that mattered.

“...And these caves are not on the traditional maps; only experienced thieves can get their hands on something more detailed.” Elizaveta was saying. “Is this really the best you have, Alfred?”

Alfred shrugged. “Okay, so I’m not the best artist, and I’m no thief, but this is all from memory, alright? I didn’t think to take a map with us. So this is the best we have for now.” Crossing his arms, he glanced over to Ivan, who looked to be studying the map very closely. “You got anything?”

Setting his jaw, Ivan narrowed his eyes at the map and shifted across both feet. He was quiet. Ideas and profound thoughts seemed to be written all over his face. After a moment, everyone looked over at him, anticipating a response. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Everyone leaned forward a bit, ready for what he was going to say.

Finally, he relaxed and looked up at Alfred with the expression of utmost certainty. “I cannot read the map.” was all he said.

Everyone then looked to Alfred, who blinked several times in disbelief. “Are you serious?” he asked. Seeing no doubt in Ivan’s expression, he looked around the group for help. “Yao? Basch? Ludwig?”

Ludwig just raised his eyebrows, shaking his head at the map.

Alfred threw his hands up in exasperation. “Ugh! You guys aren’t even trying! Elizaveta, can you read it?”

Squinting at the map and tilting her head, Elizaveta tried to read it. “Well, you know, if you sort of...Just kind of, erm, how do you say...If you just imagine a map you can kind of see it?” she sighed at Alfred’s hopeful expression and gave him an apologetic grimace. “Sorry, Alfred. I don’t really see anything.”

Arthur rolled his eyes with a smile and finally came into the group, patting Alfred’s back when his whole figure seemed to droop. “Not to worry, I have a map with me,” he said, pulling his journal out from his inside pocket. He flipped a few pages as everyone gathered around, and then backtracked some. Finally, he found what he was looking for and opened the book for everyone to see. The map was too small to harbor many details like the caves they were at, but it was enough to find their relative location.

“My map looks exactly like that!” Alfred insisted, but he was largely ignored as Elizaveta took the map to observe it more closely.

As everyone shifted closer so they could all see, Elizaveta searched the rough sketch and traced the lines with a finger. She turned the book one way, and then another, and finally settled on holding it up diagonally. “We are here,” she said, pointing to one spot in the bottom left. “However,” she said, once the others started talking. “This place leaves us exposed.”

There was some confusion among them all, and Arthur frowned, trying to see what she meant on his own map. “How?” Ludwig asked. “We barely spotted these caves before. Surely it would be easy for the Demonocracy to overlook.”

“Are you saying we have to leave these caves? There aren’t many other options for shelter.” Yao pointed out. Ivan nodded in agreement.

Alfred crossed his arms.. “Yea, he’s got a point. Unless we want to rough it for awhile, but it’s too cold for Arthur, I think we have to make sure we have shelter.” he glanced pensively at Arthur.

Shaking his head, Arthur held up his hands. “Do not take my wellbeing into account. We choose a place specifically to hide ourselves from the Demonocracy, not to be comfortable.”

“No, no, no,” Elizaveta laughed at all of their points. “I can do better than that. Look here, this cave opening is directly in between the first circle’s base and the second circle’s base. It’s not marked here, but I know it’s close to a straight shot. The only reason we barely spotted these caves before was because of the snow and the fog, but the weather changes around here. I believe these caves are more visible when the sky is clear. The Demonocracy would most definitely think to check here. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still use them,” she smirked with self satisfaction, to everyone else’s confusion.

Arthur sided up with her as a strong breeze blew over the stony plan they were standing on, shivering and trying to see where she was going. He squinted at his map, looked across the blurry horizon, and turned to look back at the cave. “The caves…” he murmured. “...They keep going, don’t they?”

Elizaveta nodded. “Exactly. There is an intricate network of them; I saw it once on a map. We can map these out ourselves and use them to our advantage! We can live here, train here, place traps, hide, and survive. I believe we can find just about everything we need here, but we have to go a little deeper. Before, it would have been impossible, but with Arthur’s light, we can travel all throughout the caves.”

By then, some of the other groups had joined them with the map, listening in on Elizaveta. Murmurs of speculation started, voices rising over the persistent wind. Arthur crossed his arms as he considered Elizaveta’s proposal. It was a dangerous game to play, but he rather liked the sound of it. After a moment, he couldn’t hide his own wicked grin.

“We can lay a trap here, making them believe we settled in this region.” he said thoughtfully, and then patted Elizaveta’s shoulder. “I like the way you think, Elizaveta. Right, then!”

He held up his arms and got everyone’s attention, flying a slight distance so they could all come to him. “Here’s the plan: in the waking hours, we’re in the caves, mapping them out and learning where they go. During the sleeping hours, we set traps, try to draw them in. We can’t let them get too close, and we can’t let them find us. So we’ll just stay in the dark for now.”

“But Arthur!” called out Yao. “How will we eat?”

Some of the demons nodded along, as if just realizing food may not be readily available. Arthur just shook his head and waved a hand. “Worry not. We will figure something out today.” he brushed it off, not entirely concerned about the matter.

That didn’t seem to satisfy too many of them, and other demons spoke up with their own concerns. “What about water? Or washing rooms?”

“But how will we clean our clothes?”

“Is there a source of food or water nearby?”

“Are we really going to sleep on the ground all the time?”

It was like a pestering buzz in Arthur’s ears. He sighed, waiting for everyone to fall quiet, but the more he let it go on, the more concerns were raised. The army was slowly realizing that their escape wasn’t entirely planned or well thought out at all. But Arthur couldn’t be expected to answer all of their questions at once off the top of his head, he could only work on one problem at a time. Every question suddenly sounded like an accusation, a doubt about his ability to lead, and he gritted his teeth.

“Shut up!” he finally yelled, clenching his fists. The army then fell quiet, and the only sound was the wind dusting the plain. They all watched him with various expressions of surprise, blinking or freezing under his dangerous stare. “We will figure something out.” he growled in response to every question, giving them the only answer they needed.

He noticed, as he directed groups of demons to do their duties, that Alfred was still. He stood and watched as Arthur gestured about, ordering each demon to complete some task, whether it be mapping, searching for food, finding a water source, anything that could help. Demons peeled out of the group left and right, in pairs and in groups, but never alone. The army standing before him got smaller and smaller with every assignment, but Alfred didn’t seem to notice. He stared straight at Arthur with a strange look in his eyes.

Arthur looked at every demon as they flew away, seeing them each disappear into the fog and the snow. He tried to look anywhere but at Alfred, but finally, Ivan, Ludwig, and Basch and the others were all sent away. Only Alfred remained.

Sighing, Arthur finally looked at Alfred, seeing his dull expression. Arthur had a feeling he knew exactly what Alfred was thinking and feeling, and swallowed thickly.

“I’m sorry, Alfred.” he said insistently, gesturing behind him at the working army. “I have to.”

O~o~O

The remaining commanders at the cathedral organized for Astaroth. They had their fancy uniforms and decorations to present just how tough they were, but it was clear in their faces that they did not feel as accomplished as they looked. Their power paled in the face of a demon Duke.

Paracelsus watched them all, nervously talking to each other with fear in their eyes. Then, looking over to Astaroth, Paracelsus sighed. As scary as he was, Astaroth really couldn’t be taken seriously. The bone-headed duke was occupied with a skull that he rolled around in his hand, not even paying attention to the assembly before him. It was hard to believe the Duke of hell could be so easily distracted. The way he lounged in his throne was almost childish, and it was such a contrast to see such a huge, battle worn demon sitting and fidgeting grumpily like he didn’t command thousands of demons throughout hell.

Below him, the cluster of commanders spoke in hushed tones for fear of being singled out. They wouldn’t question Astaroth’s immaturity; he could be rolling around in his seat drooling, and the commanders would still quiver before him.

They all appeared to be lined up. Paracelsus gave a short cough to get Astaroth’s attention. “Ahem. My lord.”

The room fell dead silent. All of the commanders stiffened, and watched as the skull Astaroth played with tumbled from his hand. It struck the marble floor with a deafening crack, and rolled a ways towards the commanders. It finally came to a rest once the empty sockets faced them, and the jaw hung off crookedly. The commanders stared at the skull with wide eyes, before glancing back up to Astaroth, who looked at all of them with a dark gaze.

His eyes narrowed with contempt as he scanned the group before him, the indistinguishable faces of failure. Paracelsus sat back and relaxed, waiting for the scene to unfold.

Finally, Astaroth’s expression melted into a crooked smile. “I’d like to introduce you to my friend,” he leered, gesturing to the skull on the floor. Crossing his legs and resting his jaw on his fist, he grinned at the commanders’ silence. Each of them appeared to be frozen, stiff with formality. “See, this one used to be the top commander at this base. My favorite. I believed he could best anyone who crossed him. That was, until he met his match with the ‘great and powerful’ Paranomia.”

The demons below him all glanced at each other, especially to Phobos, Deimos, and Julius. A grave chill went through them, and all but Julius shuddered at Astaroth’s deceivingly casual look. Julius, however, smiled to himself.

Paying no mind to their reactions, Astaroth continued. “I was prepared to make him my first officer! He was skilled and fearless. His encounter with Paranomia was brief, but apparently, it was enough to turn him into a trembling coward.”

Some of the commanders nodded in agreement, but Astaroth suddenly slammed on the arm of his chair and they all jumped. Paracelsus continued to watch, boredly. “It is unacceptable! Paranomia is one demon. We are an army! I ripped the horns from this commander’s head before he could explain himself, and the same will happen to each of you if Paranomia isn’t brought to me before the moon is out. I want to see for myself what is so terrifying about this unconquerable rebel. Whoever brings him to me will become my first officer. I highly suggest you don’t fail me.” he sat back in his throne, and it suddenly became clear that the entire seat was lined with severed horns melded to iron.

The commanders collectively gave the Demonocratic salute, and bowed their heads with nervous and guarded glances to one another. Pitted against one another in competition, Paracelsus could practically taste their quivering anticipation.

“What are you doing?! Get to it!” Astaroth barked, and the commanders all hurried out of the throne room as fast as they could fly.

The room fell quiet again. Paracelsus let out a sigh as Astaroth leaned back again, biting at his claws.

Standing, Paracelsus flew over to the skull on the floor and picked it up. Before it could be placed back where it belonged on the shelf next to the throne, Astaroth let out a low noise and stared down at Paracelsus.

“Your highness?” Paracelsus questioned dully.

Astaroth’s dark eyes flashed at the demon below him. “Write the script for the next group. Make it shorter. This one was hard to remember.” he growled

“Of course, my lord.” Paracelsus nodded, and placed the skull on the shelf.

Just before Paracelsus could leave, Astaroth leaned forward again with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, and Paracelsus? The angel cages are getting dirty again. Scrub the floors before you leave.”

O~o~O

Arthur’s army spent several hours scouting around their new home. Some brought back maps, others brought back food and water by whatever means they could. They were diligent, and Arthur watched them all go about their assignments with a brooding look. At the same time, he kept an eye over the foggy horizon, staring it down as if his glare alone could keep the Demonocracy from finding them. But the hallowed stone plains were desolate as far as he could see.

While he crouched on his high rock, surveying the area, some of the groups could be heard through the wind in faint murmurs. Below, Ivan and Basch appeared to be debating over a map while they took a break to eat. Elizaveta, Ludwig, and Yao were carrying what looked like skins of animals to the cave. Voices from inside the cavern sounded busy as well. There were piles of wood near the mouth of the cave, other skins laying close by, and gordes filled with what Arthur assumed was water. The meat was being kept inside the cave, while a group in there was assigned to find anything to build a fire with.

It was getting late; they had been working for a long time. Arthur could feel the air getting colder, and felt an increasing urge to hurry. They needed to leave soon, and go deeper in the caves than they had before, to keep ahead of the Demonocracy. Arthur stood up and looked down at his army, before clearing his throat.

“Listen up!” he called out as he flew back down to the ground. He got the attention of those in the immediate vicinity and they looked to him. “Call everyone here. We need to wrap this up and get moving.” he told them, motioning around to ask for the rest of the army.

The demons flew in, the group gathering before him like a swath of loyal, black dogs. He looked over all their faces, noting how some were dirty with their work. Alfred soon joined them, and Arthur began talking once most of the army was present and listening. “You lot have done well today. It’s time to get moving before it gets dark. Gather what you need and let’s go!” he ordered, watching them all pick up anything they could carry. “Who has the maps?”

Elizaveta came forward, and brought up a piece of marked parchment and offered it to him. Taking it, Arthur looked over the proposed route, tracing it thoughtfully, and nodded to her. “You lead the way.” he handed it back to her and motioned up. “Let’s move!”

As the army flew out to the caves in a black rush of wings, Arthur turned and looked over the dead horizon one last time. The wind howled at him, the skies churned like a vengeful sea, and the land all around seemed frozen in time, chilled and devoid of life. Hell was certainly more cruel in the second circle. Arthur smiled wryly and flicked his tail.

“Oh, when they come for me,” he murmured to himself, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll be gone.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! That only took forever haha! Oh man, this chapter was so hard to write, I'm so glad it's done but honestly disappointed that I couldn't make it longer. It's kind of important because of things that happen both with Arthur and outside of Arthur's point of view. No Camael this time, but instead I have some new characters to introduce!
> 
> Now, I know this sounds bad, but I promise there's no OC's! No Mary Sues, nothing like that. This story is also labeled as a Religious fanfiction on AO3, so I'm using actual biblical characters and such. Astaroth is the duke of hell obviously, and Paracelsus is the other main one that's going to be really important, Paracelsus is actually a character that is well known in Christian demonology and stuff, but I had to use a different name, and you'll find out why later ;)
> 
> The other important thing about this chapter was the dream Arthur had at the beginning! I'll get back to that later, but for now I'm going to analyze the song, since I sort of started forgetting to do that XD Whoops, haha anyway, here we go!
> 
> This chapter was called When They Come For Me by Linkin Park, and it actually has a little sister chapter that's already complete that I'll publish soon! Like hopefully within 24 hours of when I publish this chapter.
> 
> The cool thing about When They Come For Me is the drum beat, it's where I got the inspiration for the Demon Beating. The song does have a curse word!! Sorry about that, but that doesn't keep me from believing this song is cool af XD In my head, the first couple of verses is Arthur acting out his whole little tough guy thing. The first verse goes "I am not a pattern to be followed/the pill that I'm on is a tough one to swallow/I'm not a criminal/Not a role model/Not a born leader/I'm a tough act to follow," and it goes on along the same theme of being unique and fiercely rebellious. It also serves to make it sound like he's complimenting his army because of their ability to keep up with him.
> 
> Next, the whole "Oh, when they come for me, come for me, I'll be gone," phrase? That's like his satisfaction, his pride in the fact that the Demonocracy can't catch him. He's too quick, too clever, and there's nothing they can do about it. He absolutely loves it.
> 
> That's pretty much the most important things about the song. The next sister chapter I mentioned is neat with how it fits with this one; you know how the verse is "When they come for me, I'll be gone?" Well, guess what, Linkin Park also has a song called I'll Be Gone XD So yea instead of doing the last Gymnopedie chapter, I'll be doing that one.
> 
> So about that dream Arthur had! It's really important to remember that, his dreams are about to become more important than they have before.
> 
> Disclaimer!! I don't own Hetalia, the bible, Linkin Park, or the cover image! The cover image was drawn by Makoyana haha and she's definitely an artist y'all should check out!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Sorry that writing takes me so long, I miss writing all the time!
> 
> -Madz


	10. I'll Be Gone

O~o~O

‘I’ll be gone…’

The horizon reversed. Below him was the light, and above him the dark. He couldn’t feel the ground below him, nor the wind through his wings. He opened his eyes to the blurry world, the edges soft and dim. He felt dizzy, like the blood had rushed to his head. The ground above him was dead, but the sky below him was so alive. He had a feeling he was headed towards the dark.

There was a sharp pressure in his chest. That was the only feeling he was aware of; he didn’t feel cold or warm, calm or afraid. There was nothing but that dull place in his chest. He tried to touch it, but he couldn’t even feel his hand moving. There was no movement at all.

He blinked, and the black horizon glittered with a whole galaxy he had never seen before. The pulsating, shimmering lavender light came back in the sky, illuminating the space around him in the most wonderful way. He tried to see it all, to absorb the sight and remember it. He had forgotten it from before. The figure that moved into view stretched within the light and raised its glorious wings before him.

The languid figure moved serenely about the space, paying no mind to him, as if he wasn’t even there. Like he didn’t even exist. But how could he possibly mind? Looking upon this ethereal angel was a privilege by itself. So he blinked calmly at the figure, perfectly content all alone.

Every movement it made was full of grace and elegance; it was a being of pure spirit and faith, existing on a plane that couldn’t be anything other than paradise. Despite the figure’s apparent content, there was something off about the space. He could sense a growing darkness, a troubling future to behold. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt in his heart that something terrible was going to happen.

Illustrating this with a dip in the horizon, the figure betrayed its worry. The stars may shine bright and proud, but even they know one day, the time will come to burn out.

The figure turned its head to face him. His heart jumped in his chest; he was filled with a nervous thrill at being acknowledged by such a flawless being. He was regarded with such omnipotence, and his very existence felt insignificant under its stare. “You are not moved,” it observed, looking at him with no eyes. But he knew the figure could see everything, all that was and all that ever would be glimmered in its sightless eyes.

He shook his head desperately. “I am moved.” he insisted, watching as the sky bled celestial blues and purples and colors he didn’t know existed. His eyes shone with wonder, close to what he felt so long ago in his heavenly home. Love and peace swelled in his chest, memories of times long lost and impossible to reach.

“No,” the figure disagreed, and came closer. He was suddenly overcome by the proximity figure, and tears filled his eyes. “You do not weep.”

Swiping at his eyes, he struggled to look up at the figure. “See here,” his voice trembled before the magnificent being. “I do weep.”

The figure reached for his face and touched him with such sheer gentleness that he couldn’t help but let out a sob. “Not here,” the figure told him soothingly. “You have forgotten how to weep.”

“I do not understand,” he looked up desperately at the figure, eyes shining with tears.

It gave him a pitying look. He didn’t have to see, he just knew the figure was filled with regret and sorrow. “Don’t look down.” was all it said.

Immediately, there was a searing pain in his chest, and he was suddenly aware of his heart thundering in his chest and blood rushing through his ears and his hands flying to his chest. He let out a cry, clutching desperately at a wound he could feel, warm with fresh blood. The air slipped out from under him and suddenly he was falling, falling hard and fast with no control and the wound in his chest was all he knew.

The air whipped by him at impossible speeds, and in the sky he could see many figures clashing above him. But they were so far, he was falling to fast to be able to tell what was happening.

He turned his face up and could see the ground below him approaching fast. Dying bodies littered the ground, and as fast as he was falling, he was certain he was going to join them. Letting out a soft sob, he accepted his fate, and curled in on himself in the air, cradling the wound on his chest.

He shut his eyes tightly, and just that quickly, the entire setting was gone. The only sound he could make out was his own breathing. He could sense the figure again, holding his head close. The figure leaned close to his ear to whisper to him.

“Not yet.”

O~o~O

Arthur awoke and sat up abruptly, his heart racing. He looked around quickly, sensing danger and feeling on guard. Blindly, he whipped his head around, trying to identify every threat that hid from his view in every shadow. Finally, he recognized a shape, and paled once he realized how defenseless he was. At least, until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The shadows presented no harm to him, and he let out a quiet sigh. He believed his imagination would one day be the death of him.

Feeling calmer, Arthur looked around the cave. Through the frigid gloom, he could see his own breath, as well as several sleeping forms surrounding him. All over the ground, demons slept, not one too close to another. It was quite a sight to see; Arthur didn’t think he’d ever seen so many resting demons at once before. Luckily, his fit of panic didn’t disturb anyone, and they all continued to rest peacefully.

But, Arthur didn’t think he could join them. The rush of adrenaline upon waking up had made him too jittery, and he didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep.

Still, he lay back down, staring blankly at the mouth of the cave around him. The dream slowly came back to him, but at the same time he recalled it less and less. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such a vivid dream. He didn’t recognize the figure, nor did he know why it wrought such beautiful anguish in his dream self. He couldn’t remember any of the conversation they had.

While he stared aimlessly above, trying to decode his own mind, he remained unaware that he was being watched. A pair of empty blue eyes looked down on him from behind, though the figure was still and relaxed.

The only sound was the wind howling mournfully outside, carrying away the dreams of warmth and life, and bringing in the promise of unforgiving cold.

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the sister chapter to When They Come For Me! My favorite bit about doing this is that the whole line is 'Oh, when they come for me, I'll be gone,' and what do you know? Linkin Park also has a song called I'll Be Gone XD
> 
> So this chapter is a little weird. Remember the odd dream sequence in the last chapter? This is essentially a continuation of it. Arthur with an aurora angel figure thing, with some crazy stuff happening. All I can do here really is analyze the song, I guess I'll do that haha!
> 
> To me, it sounds like I'll Be Gone is about committing suicide. There's a verse that goes "And tell them I couldn't help myself/And tell them I was alone/Oh tell me I am the only one/And there's nothing that can stop me..." and that really gives me the feeling that he could be expressing his final thoughts before ending his life. Sort of doing a disclaimer, like no one helped me, I did this to myself blah blah blah and so on. One thing I really love about this song is the instrumental and how it manages to portray such a distance, like immediately when I hear the opening, I picture Arthur standing alone on a cliff with nothing but vast land all around him. It's pretty neat how it can do that! I love music haha, it's so cool.
> 
> Yea, the entire dream thing is supposed to be some weird foreshadowing for later events, mostly lying in the actual lyrics, so hopefully you'll hang around to see it! I'm excited for this story, despite how slowly it's coming along.
> 
> Oh one more thing before I go, I no longer have a Tumblr! I'm not sure if you remember but I mentioned in a few author's notes some chapters back that I had planned on making a Messenger themed tumblr, and I did, but now I don't have one anymore. It's not a big deal, I just decided Tumblr wasn't for me, so you can catch me writing here or something if you wanted to talk to me.
> 
> Once again a quick disclaimer, I don't own Linkin Park, Hetalia, or Makoyana's wonderful art. Seriously, her art is absolutely amazing! Anyway, y'all have a great day, I'll be here :D
> 
> -Madz


	11. Psycho

O~o~O

The squadron was lost.

Through the dense fog, the five demons searched for what felt like hours, through the damp and chilly air. The cold wind stung, and it was next to impossible to see further than a wing’s length. Still, they kept flying, the leaders bound and determined to complete their task. The two commanders led their three soldiers brazenly into the mist, without direction. Instead, they were guided by a strange mix of fear and delusional infallibility.

Astaroth would accept nothing less than Paranomia’s head! The chill that went down their spines at the mere memory of the duke of hell was more than enough to keep the commanders in line. Phobos and Deimos glanced at each other, and quickly looked away. The duke had pitted all the commanders against each other, but both Phobos and Deimos privately reasoned that two heads were better than one. Phobos had his own plan once they came upon Paranomia; he’d strike the back of Deimos’s head with a heavy stone. Then, while Deimos was bleeding out on the ground, he’d take Paranomia for himself and run off back to Astaroth, where he’d claim the very desirable position as first officer. Phobos quite liked the idea of first officer, even if it meant leaving his own brother behind. He grinned distractedly at the thought that he could be sitting in that gargantuan throne one day, ruling half of hell. He could even picture the shade of silver the crown would be.

Of course, his selfish daydream didn’t include the possibility that Deimos had similar plans. Deimos narrowed his eyes at his brother, thinking of how many ways he could quickly shred his wings. That soft, flimsy skin would puncture so easily under his claws, and Deimos’ mouth watered; he could practically taste the blood that would spurt out so suddenly through the tiny veins lining the inside. He imagined ripping into those delicate, gauzy wings, how his fingers would further tear the warm, stretchy skin as easily as paper. He knew exactly what Phobos would sound like in sheer agony as he was rendered flightless, trembling, with his wings hanging around him in bloody tatters. Then, with his brother unable to chase him, Deimos would seize Paranomia alive and haul him back to Astaroth. The duke would be very pleased to be able to keep the wretched rebel as a prisoner, and surely would award Deimos handsomely for such a feat...

Phobos and Deimos led the way off into their own respective little worlds, paying no mind to where exactly they were really going. The fog seemed to encourage distraction with its dull gloom. The three demons behind them were getting restless, unaware of the commander’s fantasies. They had been flying with no sight of anything tangible, and neither Phobos nor Deimos seemed to have any intention of turning around.

“Why did we take the advice from that idiot?” one soldier murmured to the others, huffing with every wing stroke and swiping sweat from his brow. “Paracelsus doesn’t know anything. The commanders should have followed their own instincts.”

Grunting in agreement, the other two breathed heavily and glowered at the commander’s backs. Faint resentment was evident in their hardened stares. The commanders had asked Astaroth’s assistant, Paracelsus, for any pointers as to where Paranomia might be hiding. Most of the other commanders all hurried to the first circle, eager to catch Paranomia among the wreckage of the fallen base. That seemed like the logical thing to do, but Phobos and Deimos decided they knew better than to go hunting all the way out there.

Paracelsus seemed to think Paranomia would head for the second circle down on the ground, and Phobos and Deimos ate that up like it was possible. There was nothing but wind and dust in the second circle, and the soldiers felt Paranomia would obviously be building up his own army in the first circle where he had taken down the Demonocracy. “What does Paracelsus know? That good-for-nothing kiss up probably doesn’t do anything but scurry around and run errands for Astaroth.” the other two laughed. “Such a try hard.”

Below them, the ground stirred with a cold breeze.

The fog seemed to thicken, shrouding them all in a cool, yet stifling space. “Brother?” Phobos couldn’t contain a grin as he cast a glance over his shoulder, making eye contact with the soldiers, and then Deimos. He gestured downwards and cocked his head, briefly flashing his fangs. “We should land here, look around for awhile. What do you say?” he shrugged casually.

Deimos raised his chin, and sniffed the air with purpose. “Why, do you believe we are close?” he looked at Phobos, narrowing his eyes coldly. The brothers looked at each other like there was nothing else around, not the soldiers, not the rushing wind, or the fog. The tension was nearly thick enough to taste. The three soldiers glanced nervously among each other, and then to the commanders with expressions of varying confusion.

Phobos went quiet, his eyes widening briefly at Deimos’ stare. He quickly blinked and looked away, nodding to himself. “Well, yes, I-er, sense we’re coming near where Paranomia could be hiding.” his voice wavered, and he seemed to struggle to keep his smug expression.

“If you say so.” Deimos replied pleasantly, and continued to stare for a moment longer than necessary before finally turning his head.

They began to coast downwards, with Phobos casting somewhat worried glances repeatedly over to Deimos. The soldiers followed without a word, and hung back further than they were before. The wind quieted, until each demon could hear his own labored breathing from the long flight. The empty space felt like it needed to be filled, and yet no one said anything. None of them knew what to say.

The ground began to faintly appear. It appeared almost no different than the fog, if not for the rocks and pebbles that made its texture visible. They each headed towards it carefully, leaning back to prepare to land.

Phobos and Deimos landed first, and right after them were the three soldiers, each landing hard in the gravel. Looking around, the stone plain seemed to go on forever in all directions. The soldiers looked at each other warily, and then turned to watch the commanders inspect the ground. Deimos kicked at a stone, and watched thoughtfully as it pattered away. The echo that followed it sounded hollow.

Crossing his arms, Phobos watched Deimos with a hard look, before indignantly turning away and moving around to look at all the larger stones. His tail swished back and forth with purpose, and he scrutinized every stone in the vicinity, almost in a hurry. Meanwhile, Deimos lazily picked up a shard of a rock, and used it to sharpen his claws. Both moved in opposite directions, not once turning to look back at the other. The soldiers stood still, postures straight and rigid while their eyes wandered.

One soldier leaned in to mutter to the others. “You think they’re trying to track Paranomia?” he asked, his mouth tightening into a thin line.

The other two nodded vaguely, without too much certainty. “Yea. Sure. Tracking.” another responded with a shrug.

The third one sighed deeply, and stayed silent. He looked over what he could make out of the horizon, and then turned back to the commanders. He was suddenly felt very strange, like nothing would be the same when they left this place. If they left.

O~o~O

“One.”

The only sound was the rough breeze, rushing through the line of demons. Each of them were perfectly still. Their muscles were tensed as instructed, braced in anticipation. They controlled their breathing, letting it out long and slow to remain soundless. Some had their eyes closed, others looked forward with their eyes set to the distance.

“Two.”

Each of them tried to pinpoint the sound, and found it impossible. Still, some looked around as if they could hear better if they saw more. Others tensed at the shoulders, screwing their eyes shut in concentration. Some of their wings quivered with the pressure. All down the row, the tips of their tails flicked about, betraying their evident stress. They waited, as patiently as they could, straining to listen.

“Three!”

His hand landed roughly on one demon’s shoulder, whipping him around and punching him hard in the gut. Stunned, the demon doubled over, only to be kneed in the face. Before he could fall, he was lifted up by his collar, and he dangled helplessly in the air. In the next instant, the heel of a boot met with his chest and he was sent skidding across the ground, holding his bleeding nose. The demon cried out with an expression twisted with pain, and his boots slid on the gravel until he lay limp on the ground.

Scoffing, Arthur stalked over to the defeated demon with a sour glare. “You can’t be serious. Have you forgotten you have wings?” he rolled his eyes and turned to look back at the rest of the army. “No defense. Positively horrid reaction time. He completely folded under pressure. Nothing more to it.”

As he turned to walk away, the demon on the ground struggled to sit up. “I-I’b sorry, Para-Paranomia.” he stammered, his nose bleeding to the point where it dripped from his chin and started gathering on his collar. The others looked on sympathetically, while he tried to wipe his chin clean with a shaking hand.

“No apologies!” Arthur whipped around with a harsh stare. The other demons jumped at his raised voice. “In battle, there are no second chances. Now, get up off the ground and clean yourself up. We have more training to do. No second chances.” he muttered darkly, releasing a rough sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. Just as fast, he ripped his hand away from his face and marched a short distance away, looking up at the empty sky. He smoothed down his uniform, taking a long breath.

The rest of the army looked on in bewilderment, some glancing at each other. Most of them looked to Elizaveta or Ivan, or any of the other more experienced ones. But they were just as lost as the rest of them. Basch leaned towards Alfred, keeping a careful eye on Arthur.

“Do you know what we’re supposed to do?” he whispered, signalling towards the rest of the army, who shuffled around awkwardly. But Alfred had the same distracted look that Arthur did.

The sky held no answers. The fog all around them swirled with every movement, lazing about in gaseous tendrils. Arthur mindlessly held a hand out, as if he could touch the elusive mist. He forced himself to breathe in and out slowly, but he couldn’t quite relax his clenched jaw, or the tight fist he held at his side. He could feel all of their stares prodding at him from behind, begging for some explanation, some sign of what to do. They were silent, and the cold wind blew on indifferently, right through him. He shivered so hard that his neck ached with the effort, and it only fueled the fire within him.

“Right!” he finally burst out, whirling around and marching right back towards the army. “It’s getting dark. You and you, light a fire just outside the mouth of the cave,” he instructed, pointing at two random demons. “You, bring the food we have stored. We’ll eat out here. Alfred, you’re with me.” He gestured for Alfred to follow and turned to stalk away.

Alfred was at his side in an instant, landing smoothly next to him and folding his wings once more. With his hands clasped behind his back, he matched strides with Arthur and said nothing.

They walked in silence for a beat, looking at the gritty ground, and then up to the darkening skies. The fog seemed to decompose into a green hue, rather than the cool blue it was before. Arthur’s tail lashed back and forth, illustrating his annoyance with the twitching tip, and he glanced around and across the horizon in search of the rocks he knew would be up ahead. The dense fog shrouded the plains ahead, and Arthur narrowed his eyes to try and make out the distance.

Looking to his left, he noticed Alfred was staring at him. “Yes?” he asked, not recognizing Alfred’s unusually reserved demeanour.

Alfred looked past Arthur, and then up at the sky. “How long has Yao been at watch?” he asked with a frown. “Surprised it’s been...Quiet…” he trailed off just as they both picked up a faint, faraway sound.

They looked at one another with mirroring expressions of confusion. Then, slowly turning, they scanned the skies for any explanation for Arthur thought sounded a lot like a whistle. Realization dawned on Arthur, and with a wide-eyed look, he could see Alfred figure it out as well. “Yao. The signal.” Alfred said quickly, and Arthur nodded. In the next instant, they both whirled and launched in the air.

The whistling call got louder, and both Arthur and Alfred searched for the source. Yao couldn’t be far; the fog was obstructing a lot, so they had to listen closely. Luckily, Alfred had sharper ears than Arthur. “This way,” he indicated with a nod of his head. They both flew hard and fast, racing to find Yao. Arthur swore the air got colder; the moisture that gathered on his uniform and his hair began to become frosty. Still, his heart pounded in anticipation, enough to make him numb to the cold. His blood moved like fire in his veins.

“Paranomia!” they both turned at the relieved call, and slowed as they spotted Yao waving at them from below. They dove in sync, and landed quietly when Yao signalled for them to be quiet. “Paranomia, there are Demonocrats wandering nearby.”

“How many?” Arthur asked, peering around for any sight of the intruders. “A legion? An army? What could they possibly have for us now?” he challenged, raising his chin daringly.

Yao raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to signal behind him. “Five.” he answered with a shrug.

Staring at him incredulously, Alfred’s jaw dropped. “Five hundred?” he whispered. “Damn, they’re really out to get us. What are we going to do?” he looked at Arthur, slight worry evident in his expression.

With a short chuckle, Yao shook his head, and after checking over his shoulder, suddenly urged them back. They all stepped carefully over the sharp rocks, moving down the hill as quietly as possible. Once they were out of sight behind a large boulder, Yao indicated it was safe to look. The three of them peeked out over the top of the rock.

“Oh.” Alfred said, blushing a little. “You really meant five.”

Five silhouettes could be made out through the fog, and they were coming closer. Two figures seemed far off from one another, and the other three stayed relatively close. Judging by their unequal distribution, Arthur could assume they weren’t on a formal mission. He couldn’t guess why they had come, or how they ended up so close to his territory. They didn’t appear certain of their direction, judging by the lagging pace the group had. “They must be lost.” he murmured quietly.

Yao considered it only for a moment, and then nodded. “More or less. Demonocrats don’t typically just ‘get lost,’ they’re probably looking for something. And they must have been guided here specifically. Now, they just don’t know where to find it.”

“They’re here for us,” Alfred whispered grimly, and then looked to Arthur with his eyes narrowed coyly. “We have guests.”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur let out an amused sigh. Behind their backs, his tail brushed briefly with Alfred’s. “That we do, Alfred. That we do.”

For just a moment, they all looked at one another, and then Yao impatiently shook his head. “So what do we do? We have to warn the army! We should go back and assemble ourselves so that we are ready!” he made a move to stand, but Arthur held him down with a meaningful look.

“Not so fast,” Arthur said, motioning to be quiet. “They’re only five. We don’t want to raise all sorts of hell over five Demonocrats.” For a moment, Yao persisted. He opened his mouth to protest, but Arthur held him with a heavy glare for a long moment. Finally, he nodded, and went back down into a kneel.

They all continued to observe the demons from afar. The figures in the distance slowly moved closer, headed towards the hill. From up top, they weren’t very close, but they weren’t very far either. Alfred fidgeted, messing with the gravel beneath them and shifting repeatedly. Arthur narrowed his eyes, trying to make out any recognizable features from the Demonocrats, but Alfred was making it hard for him to concentrate. His eyes couldn’t quite make it past the blurred mist.

After Alfred couldn’t manage to sit still for even a second, Arthur turned on him. “Can’t you relax? We have to be patient, Alfred,” he growled, startling both Alfred and Yao. “Look, the three of us can take those five easily. But we have to be quiet and still. We have to be smart if we’re going to take them out successfully. Haven’t I taught you anything about stealth and about-”

“Hey!” Alfred whispered urgently. His eyes widened when he realized he interrupted Arthur, but he quickly caught himself and pointed over the hill. “Isn’t that-?”

Yao shook his head in disbelief, recognizing their faces as well. “Phobos and Deimos,” he breathed.

“Well, that’s just great.” Arthur muttered. “It’s a bit too early for a reunion, if you ask me.”

Going quiet, they watched for any sign that they could be wrong. But the commanders only got clearer. Arthur didn’t understand their persistence. Why had they come back? Arthur had humiliated them in front of their own army, surely the higher ups would have punished them? “Haven’t they learned their lesson yet?” he snarled. “No matter. We’ll just have to show them again.”

Arthur quickly thought of a plan and explained it quietly, keeping half an eye on the advancing Demonocrats. He kept his voice low, and spoke with a certainty that he took pride in. His eyes repeatedly flashed over to the demons, monitoring their position. As scattered and confused as they were, they didn’t seem to be expecting to stumble upon Paranomia anytime soon. So, he decided to make use of the element of surprise. He looked to Alfred, and then to Yao with a smirk. “Let’s go.”

O~o~O

Down below, Phobos and Deimos had wandered closer to one another, with Phobos lagging behind. He had a jagged rock that he messed with in his hands, but he held it still at his side every time Deimos turned around. Deimos seemed eager and somewhat jumpy; every time one of the soldiers made a sound, he jerked to look around behind him.

The soldiers had given up complaining, only sharing occasional glances to one another every time one of the commanders said something. They walked together, clearly not expecting to find what they were looking for. Still, they were ordered to go on a mission, and they were soldiers. They would follow their orders, even just to escape the fate of the ones who didn’t.

Nothing appeared to be around for a long time. They wandered aimlessly in the cold, grey desert with no sense of direction. The soldiers weren’t sure if they even knew how to get back to the base in the second circle from their position. What if they got lost and were permanently trapped in the second circle? Would Astaroth even notice their disappearance? Was all of this worth finding one demon?

And then, like a miracle, he appeared before them.

First, two demons landed out of nowhere. A short one with long hair, and a taller one with cold blue eyes. The commanders recognized the blue eyed demon; they remembered when those eyes turned red.

A moment later, Paranomia himself landed in between the two others. He stood proud, regarding them all with an expression so composed, the Demonocrats believed he was expecting them. And still, his sharp eyes cut through all of them, each of them feeling like Paranomia could see right through to their very soul. The soldiers had never seen Paranomia for themselves, but they didn’t need to be told who it was standing before them. All they needed was to meet his eyes, and they knew.

They all stood frozen, and the soldiers weren’t quite sure if they could believe what they were seeing. It wasn’t like they hadn’t been briefed on the kind of havoc Paranomia had caused, but they simply couldn’t comprehend how real and dangerous he was until they were in his presence.

Just his stare was enough to suffocate them.

And the commanders lost themselves.

In the next instant, Phobos reared his arm back with the stone in hand, and threw it at Deimos. Letting out an anguished, angered cry, Deimos whipped around and charged at Phobos. His wings suddenly looked stiff, and his eyes widened in apparent horror.

The soldiers backed up a few steps when Deimos tackled Phobos, and on the ground he forced Phobos’ wings apart. At Phobos’ sudden screech, the soldiers looked at one another and realized Deimos was ripping the wings apart. The howls he let out echoed around them, ringing in their ears as they watched his wings become nothing more than a mangled, bloody mess. Deimos took great care to do one wing at a time, shifting his weight over his brother and watching with hazy eyes as he slowly forced his claws through the wing’s tender flesh.

With every vein he tore, more blood spurted up at him, spattering his face and uniform. Phobos struggled uselessly, screaming at the top of his lungs until he choked on his own blood, his voice becoming hoarse and useless. His heels dug into the ground, finding no leverage to escape Deimos.

Finally, he went still, the limbs for his wings twitching just slightly. Deimos was satisfied with his work and rolled off of Phobos, trying to stand, but he promptly fell to his knees, and then tipped over onto his side. “Damn you, brother,” he sputtered weakly, unable to help falling on his stomach. The soldiers could then see the blood on his back, from where the rock him struck.

With Phobos on his back, and Deimos on his front, silence fell over them all. With wide, horrified eyes, the soldiers looked up to Paranomia. The two others beside him looked equally as shaken as the soldiers, having shifted back a ways.

But Paranomia only looked on with mild interest.

His eyes flashed up to look at the soldiers.

Their reaction was a immediate; they scrambled back, suddenly wondering if Paranomia had somehow turned the commanders against one another. One of them tripped and fell, almost dragging the other two down with him. But the others caught their footing and continued away without him, desperately creating distance between themselves and Paranomia. “Wait!” he yelled after them, but they didn’t even look back.

It wasn’t long before they spread their wings, and the lonely soldier watched them go, disappearing into the cold fog. For a moment, he still sat there, staring at the place the others went out of sight. He let out a long, shuddering breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Funny, isn’t it?”

Jumping, the soldier whipped around to see Paranomia calmly stepping towards him. The other two demons had gone, and the soldier assumed they must have gone after the other soldiers. Paranomia walked right in between Phobos and Deimos, who remained motionless on the ground. He sneered at their fallen forms, before turning his gaze back to the soldier. He looked him right in the eyes, and the soldier would have preferred he didn’t; it was terribly unnerving to be looked at in such a way, like being peeled apart. But still, he didn’t dare look away. “You’d think they’d be a little more considerate.”

Paranomia came to a stop directly in front of the soldier, crossing his arms thoughtfully. The soldier looked up at him, his neck aching with the effort, but his heart beat too quickly for him to think about it. “I suppose selfishness is in a demon’s nature. You drew the short stick, it seems. Tell me, do you know who I am?”

The soldier nodded hesitantly. Paranomia smiled. “Good. And pray tell, do you have a name?”

After a moment, the soldier nodded again, blinking quickly. Then, at Paranomia’s silence, he quickly tried to think straight. “I, uh, Antonio.” he mumbled, finally breaking away from Paranomia’s heavy stare.

“Well, Antonio,” Paranomia sighed, his expression melted into an ominous leer that made Antonio feel like he was shrinking. “Your ass belongs to me now.”

O~o~O

“Francis.”

An urgent whisper rang out in the dim room. There were two figures, each standing motionless across the room from one another. They both stood on a metal platform, connected to a complicated network of wires and screens that ran behind them on the walls to the dome. The only light in the room came from the odd little blinking red, green, and blue lights. Besides that, the figures both seemed to emanate a small amount of light themselves; one was a golden color, the other a purple.

Both figures were unaware of their surroundings, apparently asleep. Because of this, a third figure deemed it safe to move around. “Francis,” he tried again, padding over to the golden figure. His wings quivered with anticipation, expecting at any moment to be discovered in the dark room.

The soft light of the machinery lit up Feliciano’s face, and his eyes flitted about Francis’ figure. His expression became pained, seeing all of the metal plates and wires hacked into the body of his friend, to the point where he was hardly recognizable. His only distinction from the drone across from him was his face, and his blonde hair. Glancing over his shoulder, Feliciano gave the second drone a once over, and decided he still somewhat resembled his angel self. He had once been Zadkiel.

Sighing, Feliciano turned again to Francis, and reached for his face. His hand was hardly an inch away, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to touch. The soft beeping that was hardly heard before grew a little louder and quicker at his proximity, so he pulled away and stood back. “Francis,” he let out, crossing his arms uncomfortably. Fans throughout the room made the air feel artificial and cold. “If you can hear me, I, um, I have a plan now. It is not a very good one, but it is the only way I can think of to save you.”

Silence answered him. Francis remained still, and the beeping had calmed down along with the lights. Feliciano looked down to the floor and wrung his hands. “I am alone now. I have not spoken with anyone but you; I cannot bring myself to try. You always knew what to do when we were stuck like this, but…” he let out a shuddering breath. “You are not here. I do not know where you are, or if you even exist anymore. I feel that I am speaking to a shell…”

He straightened his posture then, looking around the room. “Look what they have done to you,” he murmured, taking in Camael’s creation. All around the room, processor after processor was lined up, wires weaving all over the walls like a web of pure information. With the soft lights, metal plates over the new drones were illuminated, and prototypes with experiments were scattered around the edge of the space. It made no sense to an angel like Feliciano, who was terrified of the new mechanical angels that stood asleep. “I have to change this. I do not have a choice.” he murmured.

Looking back to what once was Francis, his gaze hardened. “I have to find Arthur.”

During the resting hours, he lay cold and alone for several hours at a time, thinking of the warmth Francis once offered to him. There was no one in Heaven for him anymore, and he felt his only consolation was soft prayers to God when he felt particularly anguished. He worked mindlessly for Camael, swallowing back the pain he felt every time he walked into the dome. He remembered when he once assisted Camael in simply monitoring the Bereft One, and he felt those times were much more bearable. Now, he hardly felt like he was living.

Feliciano was exhausted, but he couldn’t quite fall asleep. He was hungry, but he felt too sick to eat. Nothing he did felt right. He had no idea what was happening to Arthur anymore, and to his dismay, none of the other angels seemed to care anymore.

Arthur was no longer their final salvation. He was no longer the key to ending the war against the Demonocrats. Arthur was simply an outcast. Camael made that very clear on the morning that everything in Heaven changed.

He was awoken by a soft voice, a gentle push on his shoulder. Being nudged into consciousness made him very aware of a dull ache in his head, and he groaned in response. Trying to adjust to the light, he squinted and tried to cover his eyes. “Feliciano,” an unfamiliar voice whispered. “Camael wants you at the church. Everyone is gathering. Please wake up.”

The weather was too hot. Feliciano was laying in direct sunlight, and his bare skin burned. “What time…” he mumbled, and heaved a sigh, opening his eyes. “What time is the assembly?”

The angel about him smiled warmly. “It is now. Camael has requested your presence immediately.”

With a jolt of pure, painful adrenaline, Feliciano sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “I will be there as soon as possible.” he mumbled tiredly, trying to focus. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course!” the angel smiled brightly, and spread his wings to fly off in the direction of assembly.

Sighing, Feliciano took a moment to hold his blaring head. He must have drifted off at some point during the resting hours, and it wasn’t pleasant. There was a harsh pain in his neck when he turned to face left, and it jumped down his spine when he tried to force it. With a groan, he dizzily got to his feet and tried to direct himself towards the central church.

He took flight, unsteady and off balance. He could barely keep his eyes open. But, Camael had called upon him, and he would be there. That was his purpose; he lived to serve. With a quick, resentful glance up to the halo permanently perched upon his head, he silently cursed the Angelicans. Harsh words he could never say out loud clouded his thoughts, but when he considered doing the same to Camael, a rush of adrenaline made his heart lurch in his chest. He couldn’t do it; he was too afraid.

Looking ahead, he saw the open church from afar; he saw the angels all standing within the pews, facing the central figure. Like the personification of the sunset, the intense orange light reflected into Feliciano’s eyes. The full glory of a Seraph was difficult even for a higher angel to bear.

He landed clumsily, nearly stumbling. But he quickly caught himself, moving forward as fast as he could in his bleary state. Camael unfolded all six wings before them all, forcing Feliciano to shield his eyes as he went. The light was designed to call all angels in the vicinity, but Feliciano wondered if Camael had timed it just to try and blind him. Still, he marched on, hurrying to the altar and standing to Camael’s right.

The light slowly fell back to normal, and Feliciano struggled with his eyes that remained unadjusted. He did what he could to compose himself beside Camael, blinking uselessly at the clouds below them. Camael seemed to pay no attention to him. Instead, he waited for complete silence to fall over the church.

“Behold!” he gestured with the utmost elegance to a halo in his left hand. Every movement he made was deliberate, every motion was filled with every element of grace. There wasn’t a single thing about Camael that wasn’t perfect, and such was the nature of the Seraphim. The angels all watched, curious and entranced with the halo, half wonder and half horror in their eyes. Feliciano couldn’t bear to look up any further. “This halo once belonged to Arthur!”

Gentle gasps could be heard all around, and even Feliciano jerked to look up at Camael. He winced in pain when he remembered he couldn’t look left, but what Camael claimed was impossible. He remembered watching Arthur and Alfred work together to wrestle the halo off, but there was no way Camael could have gone to retrieve it. At least, not that he knew of. He stilled and looked off to the ground again, a horribly thick feeling of dread filling him.

Camael’s smirk was as painful to look at as the sun. “Indeed, I know what you must think. ‘Tis impossible to sever the halo from an angel’s head! And you would be right to assume so.” he held the halo higher, seeming to revel in how all the angels couldn’t seem to decide how they felt, and that only intrigued them more. “Arthur has chosen to sever his link to us. As Angelicans, our most important bond to one another is from our halos. None of us have the same face, or the same wings, or the same rank. The halo acts as the great equalizer, for each of us has an identical band atop our heads.”

He paused for a moment, and Feliciano refused to look at him. He quivered faintly, hoping it wasn’t noticeable, but he couldn’t help it. He had a very heavy feeling in his chest, he knew where Camael was going. “Because Arthur has removed his halo, he has therefore removed himself from the Angelican cause. An enemy of the Angelican cause is an enemy to all angels!” Camael thundered, his speech causing nearly every angel to recoil at the sheer power in his voice. “The war will not end until we make it end. Arthur had his chance to bring peace in Hell, and he failed. He failed to show the light to the Demonocrats, and for that he deserves to stay in Hell!”

The halo clattered to the ground as Camael’s wings rose once more, bringing up massive rays of light. “We are forced to pay the price for his sins, and we will pay it in full! By the end of the moon, we will be ready to organize a full scale attack on the Demonocracy to right all that has been wronged! We will show Arthur what real angels are! We are strong! We are righteous! We are united!” Blinded, the angels shouted with him.

Those shouts would ring in Feliciano’s head for days, as he fitted countless angels with armor. Camael had patted him gently and thanked him for coming. Feliciano’s throat was too tight to reply.

Camael had instructed Feliciano to distribute several types of new weapons for the Angelican army to use, all sorts of horrible contraptions designed to kill demons. Feliciano’s work was almost as mechanical as all the new additions to the army. There was no feeling or heart in his tasks; he simply would adjust the armor, assign a weapon, and move to the next angel.

The sudden surge of silent productivity wasn’t just in him; every single Angelican worked towards Camael’s goal of being prepared to fight the Demonocracy by the end of the moon. Feliciano wondered, why did Camael need to corrupt perfectly normal angels and turn them into war machines when he had millions of willing and pristine soldiers? He didn’t have to turn them all into machines to make them abide.

Or did he? Feliciano glanced up to the swath of angels before him, noticing their shining halos. He remembered how Camael referred to halos as “the great equalizer,” to them all, and blinked. The vague image of Arthur ripping the halo from his head and Camael laughing in response flashed in his head, and he blinked. The great equalizer....

A very dark feeling bloomed in his chest, knowing that even prayers couldn’t spare him from what he knew to be true.

“He’s created drones out of all of us.” he whispered to Francis’ still figure, tightly cradling his head in his hands. “I cannot- I cannot get him out of my head. He is there, constantly...He does not need to turn us all into machines like you. You are nothing but an example, a device to keep us in line.”

He sat on the floor with his back to Francis, his wings spread out limply across the floor. Before him, he could see Zadkiel’s hallowed figure, the small lights casting all sorts of shadows that created a demon out of the former angel. Feliciano understood then that the only difference between angels and demons was the angle of the light.

Looking down, tightened his hand into a weak fist, and swallowed thickly. “I know what I have to do.” his voice trembled, and he turned to face Francis with shining eyes. “It will not be easy. But if this life means anything, if I exist for any purpose at all, it is this. There is no more time, no more waiting for Arthur. No more waiting for you. I will play along until the time comes. When that time comes, God will tell me, and that is who I will obey. For your sake, and for mine.”

He breathed deeply. “For all of us.”

O~o~O

“Who sent you?”

The question was calm, so completely detached from the situation. It sounded almost gentle, as to not disturb the still desert all around them. And still, the cold wind stirred as a reminder. If the two demons sitting before them didn’t have bloody noses and busted lips, it would have felt like a casual conversation. Instead, black blood spotted the ground, and their chests heaved with rattling breaths. The dust was stifling.

Yao and Alfred stood behind the two demons, ready to beat them back in place should they try to escape, while Arthur stood before them. A good distance behind Arthur was their new little soldier, Antonio. Arthur could feel his wide eyed stare at the back of his head, surely holding many questions. He didn’t have time to answer them.

The two Demonocrats remained silent in response to his question, wavering and obviously concentrating very hard on staying upright. They adamantly kept their eyes fixed to the ground, shifting uncomfortably as the sharp rocks dug into their knees. Frustrated, Arthur snarled and rushed forward, lifting one of the demon’s heads by his hair. “Who sent you?! Who was in charge of your pathetic little mission? Was it another commander?” he spat, ignoring the pained hiss. The cold air dried the blood easily, and tested Arthur’s patience even more. “Well?!”

The other demon shifted, nursing a broken arm. He glanced up at Arthur for just a moment. “The traitor didn’t tell you?” he muttered, casting a weak glare at Antonio. Before he could even blink, Arthur kicked him over again. He went down with a howl, and breathed hard and fast as Arthur rested his boot on his head.

“I’ll make this really easy for you,” Arthur growled, eyes narrowed dangerously. “If you want to escape from me alive, you’ll tell me who sent you. I have no quarrel with smashing your skull right here. No one will find you here, your life is about as important as the dirt you’re breathing in. I'm gonna break you, do you understand?!” he forced his foot down to emphasize his point.

The demon let out an involuntary yelp and squirmed under Arthur’s boot. “Won’t talk,” he gasped into the ground, bracing himself.

He kept his eyes shut tightly, anticipating whatever Arthur would do to him like a cowering animal. Then, the boot came off of his head. The demon slowly opened his eyes, trembling just slightly, to watch as Arthur kneeled in front of him, with a smile. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” he asked sweetly, opening up his hand. The demon’s eyes narrowed curiously when Arthur’s hand glowed a faint gold, not understanding. He watched in vague wonder, the soft light emanating from Arthur’s hand and glowing from his eyes. Everyone watched with similar expressions of surprise, and Arthur smirked maliciously as the magic did its work. After a moment, the light dissipated. The demon looked up, confused.

Arthur grinned and stood once again. “Sorry, could you tell me your name?”

The demon opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Arthur mocked, holding a hand to his ear. “Well if you won’t talk, then you don’t get to have a voice.” he equated it to a fair trade, chuckling as he watched the demon flounder and try his damnedest to say something. “Now, what would you say if, hm…”

He stalked around the demon thoughtfully, stroking his chin. Circling his limp body a few times, he relished how the demon watched him with wide eyes. “Ah, what would you say if I did this?” he suddenly stomped down with his heel on the middle of the demon’s tail, with enough force to break it. The demon’s entire body went rigid for a moment, and then twisted and writhed with pure agony, but no sound came from the tormented demon.

The other demon flinched and shut his eyes, turning away. They all listened to the struggle, the only evidence of pain being the sound his body made moving along the ground. The gravel slid all around, his movement kicking up dust and chilling them all with the silence. It would have been less haunting if he could scream, or yell out, or say anything to express his pain. Instead, they all had to watch him as his body contorted violently in the dirt.

It was difficult to watch or listen to. So much so that it became impossible to bear. “Astaroth!” the other demon suddenly called out, gritting his teeth. “It was Astaroth who sent us.”

Arthur froze, and lifted his heel from the demon’s tail. “Astaroth, you say?” he leered, coming over to the other demon and tilting his head. “That’s a good start.” was all he said before his hand lashed out quicker than any of them could blink and latched on to his throat.

With his hands tied, the other demon was helpless to Arthur’s grip. He tried to get away, his body squirmed, jerking desperately in reaction to being choked, but there was nothing he could do. His eyes flashed to Antonio’s, wide and afraid, begging with just a look for help. But Arthur jerked him back and forced him to stare right into his eyes. Feeling the muscles in his throat straining for air, Arthur tightened his grip, seeing the color fade from the demon’s face. Finally, his eyes became hazy, and he couldn’t focus anymore.

Arthur calmly held him there until he finally went limp, and then he simply tossed the soldier to the ground. He landed with a dull sound on the rocks.

“Right then, we’re done here.” Arthur dusted his hands off, and then beckoned for Alfred and Yao to follow. With hesitant glances at the demon soldiers, they glanced to Antonio, and then went with Arthur. Arthur strode casually towards their cave, and Alfred and Yao caught up, they all took flight. Antonio stumbled in a hurry to fly with them.

Arthur could hear him behind, and glanced back to make sure he was with them. He watched as Antonio nervously flew closer, his face pale. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have told you our mission.” he said quietly, looking furtively at Yao and Alfred.

“I know.” Arthur didn’t even look at him. “And you will.”

Gulping, Antonio gestured back behind them. “Then...Why did you do it?”

Arthur sighed, not having expected to have to explain himself. “Well, we have two flightless Demonocrats stranded in the second circle, doomed to wander until they find civilization again. They won’t find it with us. We now have two voiceless demons unable to report their findings to the Demonocracy. One will never find his voice again, and the other will have to heal before he can speak.” he gestured with a rolling motion, trying to find the words to explain the benefit. “Once his throat heals, what will he tell them? He’ll make them afraid to come near us, don’t you see? He’s been tormented himself, and traumatized by the torture of his friend. He won’t want to come back.”

He saw Antonio nod out of the corner of his eye. “If you don’t mind my asking, why did you spare me?” he asked after a moment. “I did nothing different. I was on the same mission with the same objective. Why me?” he looked desperately at Arthur.

With a slight smirk, Arthur rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but a voice to his left spoke up first. “You were different. You didn’t run away.” Alfred pointed out.

“Exactly.” Arthur nodded. “Your friends left you. And you didn’t try to catch up, you stayed to face me. I could use someone like you.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Psycho!! I love this song, it sounds so badass and ominous haha! I mean I love Drones in general, but I think it really fits Arthur. Yes, there's language in the song, but it's necessary because it's in the point of view of a drill sergeant who's informing the new soldiers that they belong to him now. Similarly, Arthur has taken his role to an extreme, and is doing whatever he can to intimidate everyone else however he wants. Unbeknownst to him, Camael has done the same on a much larger scale. Arthur is essentially becoming the same as Camael now, and the best part is that he has no idea!! Muahahahaha!!
> 
> Arthur did some dark things in this chapter. We know he's capable of torturing people, and possibly even killing them. But he probably took this punishment a little too far. To be fair, he knew nothing of Phobos and Deimos and their grand plans, so that was simply inaction. But the other two soldiers?? He could have just let them go with a beating, but no, he had to ruin both of their lives. One had his voice magically taken from him, and the other is probably going to go mute honestly. He's become a psycho!
> 
> I used the song lyrics three times in this chapter, and two times Arthur was talking to Antonio. "Your ass belongs to me now," and "I could use someone like you," are both lines from Psycho, and in the song, the whole thing is just dialogue on how the soldiers are under the drill sergeant's thumb. So in this context, the whole song is just Arthur talking to Antonio, and anyone from his army as well. The other line was "I'm gonna break you, do you understand?!" he was talking to one of the other soldiers for that though haha
> 
> Speaking of Antonio!! Originally, the solider was just going to be some insignificant religious figure, but then I remembered that this is in fact a Hetalia fanfiction. Meaning I have to keep it true to the fandom haha oops
> 
> Anyway, if you'd like to listen to some of the songs from this story, I put together a playlist on Spotify! It's called The Messenger(figures) and my username is Madzontherun, so if you're interested, you could listen!
> 
> I don't own Hetalia, Makoyana's awesome art, or any religious lore! Hope y'all enjoyed!
> 
> -Madz


	12. Robot Boy

O~o~O

“Your highness, this is most urgent.”

A deep rumbling growl came from the black throne, practically making the hall vibrate. Every demon there felt themselves shaking down to their very bones from the sheer depth of the sound, and every eye was turned towards the demon shrouded in the dark. His orange eyes reflected the faint light. His fangs gleamed as he wrinkled his nose, his massive tail flicking back and forth. “What do you want?” he snarled, slowly uncurling himself from his seat like a serpent slithering, uncoiling.

His faint silhouette was all that could be made out. Once he was sitting properly on the throne, Paracelsus spoke up again. “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you.”

Astaroth slowly leaned down until he was practically nose to nose with Paracelsus. His sheer size in comparison to the demon was alarming, and yet Paracelsus remained devoid of expression. “ What do you want? ” he hissed again, a sense of danger rising in the room in the form of goosebumps along every other demon’s neck.

Paracelsus showed no reaction. “Apollyon’s prison is gone. I believe someone stole it.”

A grave silence fell. Astaroth leaned back in his throne while keeping his eyes on Paracelsus. No words were spoken, and yet, unspeakable anger was expressed through Astaroth’s eyes, burning into the smaller demon before him. But Paracelsus remained impassive. “Apollyon’s prison...Is gone.” Astaroth repeated slowly, spitting out the words.

Without warning, he whipped his head up to glare at the Demonocrats in the room. “Well, what are you waiting for?! The prison is gone! Find it!” he roared, standing himself and striding past Paracelsus. “If that prison isn’t back where it belongs in a day, you’re all dead! You have your orders! Find that amulet!” his voice echoed off the walls as he hurried out, frantically heading out of the cathedral.

“Aye, sir.” Paracelsus smirked. Hidden in the collar of the uniform, an amber amulet glinted before being tucked back out of sight.

O~o~O

Tiny water droplets fell from his hair and feathers, sliding down his skin in cold tendrils. He observed the water he stood in, watching as each drop returned to the black pool below him. Each droplet created ripples, spreading beyond him in places he couldn’t make out in the dim light. The gentle ridges they created couldn’t move him.

His muscles were sore and stiff, and his torso had a dull spattering of bruises that mapped out his back and core. And still, the soft light reflected from him in such a way that his hardened form shimmered, and his wings turned to silver as the water clung to him.

Antonio watched him from the ledge, with a faint blush on his cheeks. Arthur could feel him avoiding directly looking at him.

The demon had not been hard to convince. Antonio was relatively quiet, contemplative and calm as Arthur spoke to him. He stared off into space when Arthur explained how his army had come to be, and nodded along faintly. Arthur was suspicious he was lying, just because of how easily he seemed to agree and switch sides. But there was no limit to what he could do if Antonio tried to escape; his men were faster and he was surely much more ruthless than any commander he bowed down to before. He wasn’t afraid to show Antonio who he really was.

So, after a few days of adjusting, he had Antonio join him while he bathed. He knew just how uncomfortable it would be. Sure enough, for the first few moments, Antonio shifted about and messed with his uniform somewhat nervously. Still, he sat quietly, and Arthur stayed silent as he scrubbed at his blonde hair.

The small, dark pool had become the designated bathing spot. It had formed inside the cave from a spring a good distance away, and the water was cool, but not unpleasant. It’s proximity to the army was fantastic, however, the bathing process was inefficient exactly because of how shy the demons were. The only two who would bathe at the same time were Alfred and Arthur himself, so Arthur thought about how he could break down the demon’s boundaries better to make bathing easier. He couldn’t force them out of their nature, but perhaps he could build screens.

The light was coming from a breed of moss along the walls and from algae that lived in the edges of the water. Using his magic, Arthur had encouraged a sort of green-blue bioluminescence, bright enough so the army could see. He wondered if he could make the plants grow and come down from the top of the cave, forming some kind of artificial curtain.

“I wasn’t...happy.” Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts when Antonio spoke behind him. He turned to look at the demon, who was still adamantly avoiding looking at Arthur.

Arthur frowned as he preened his feathers. “I’m sorry?”

Antonio’s eyes flashed to Arthur briefly, seeming interested in his white wings. But he quickly looked away again. “When I fought for the Demonocracy. I wasn’t happy.”

Shrugging, Arthur kept his focus on his wings, puffing out his feathers and picking out the loose quills. “We’re in hell. We’re not supposed to be happy.”

“I-I know.” Antonio scratched his head. “I meant, I...I didn’t feel like I was fighting for the right reasons. I didn’t really know why we were fighting at all.”

Looking at him sitting there, Arthur tilted his head just slightly. Antonio’s wings and tail lay limply, and he rested his face in his hands like his thoughts were physically painful. His silence encouraged Antonio to continue. “I cannot explain, I don’t have the words to tell you why. But somehow, I knew I wasn’t coming back from that mission. And I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t want to go back to Astaroth.”

“You’re afraid of this ‘Astaroth,’” Arthur observed, making a move to come out of the water.

Antonio hesitated, seeming alarmed by Arthur’s sudden movement, and then nodded. He respectfully turned away as Arthur walked out towards his uniform. “He is the duke. He’s the biggest and strongest demon for several circles, I believe he warrants fear.” After a moment, he peeked back at Arthur once he was clothed again. His eyes lingered for a moment on his wings. “And, well, so does an angel.”

Frowning, Arthur adjusted his newly-styled uniform around his waist, and tightened the cuffs just below his knees. “You’re afraid of me?” he assumed, looking up with a raised brow.

With a sheepish look, Antonio shifted how he was sitting. “You’re Paranomia. Isn’t that enough?” he gave a sort of half grin. “If the commanders knew you were an angel…” he shook his head in amused disbelief, looking off into space.

Arthur smirked, and shut his eyes. “Does it really make so much of a difference?” he stretched his wings, and his arms high above his head, with great deliberation, before slowly bringing them back down and focusing his breathing. He slowly eased into a long stretch, feeling the stone with his bare feet. With a trained sense, he knew Antonio watching with vague confusion. “Nothing has changed. I still earned the name Paranomia, regardless of what I am. Angel, demon, Angelican, Demonocrat. We’re all much more similar than we appear.” he mused, opening his eyes.

“No,” Antonio murmured in agreement, meeting Arthur’s hard gaze with a half lost look. “I guess we’re not so different after all.”

Arthur grinned, pleased with Antonio’s response. After wrapping Zadkiel’s purple uniform over his shoulder, he gestured for Antonio to follow him out of the cavern. His muscles felt warm, and strong. With his back straight and his chest puffed out, Arthur strode confidently out of the bathing area into the main part of the cave.

Most of the demons fell quiet when they saw him. He met their stares coolly, and with a small smirk to himself. He and Antonio walked until they stood in the center of them all, looking out across all their faces with a humbled feeling. Here they were, living in caves, hunting and gathering and sitting around fires like they were primitive creatures. But they didn’t need more than they had; living simply brought out the best in them, made them tougher. In the Demonocracy, Arthur would never have seen so many demons working together. The life he had created here was the best thing for them.

“This is your life now,” he told Antonio, raising his hand towards the demons with a satisfied breath. “We are the defectors of the demons and adversaries of the angels. Righteous rebels, if you will. We’re taking fate into our own hands, changing nature in an attempt to change the course of history.”

He grinned devilishly as he turned to face Antonio. “And this all begins with you, by telling me everything you know about Astaroth.”

O~o~O

On the first night, the amulet was peaceful. It lay on Paracelsus’ chest with a weight that felt just slightly too heavy. The amber was cool to the touch, just slightly cold enough to chill Paracelsus. But Astaroth was not pleased, and violently killed one of the demons who served him.

On the second night, Paracelsus had a strange dream. A great power lay within the amulet, as well as a great darkness. The force of the fury emanating from the amber was enough to turn any dream into a nightmare, enough to wake Paracelsus up in a cold sweat.

On the third night, Paracelsus watched as all the demons were consumed by locusts in a brief, terrifying vision. Paracelsus had frozen, and then slowly looked down at the insect preserved in the amber. Instantly, the vision was gone.

On the fourth night, a massive locust the size of Astaroth spoke to Paracelsus in a feverish dream. The words were meaningless; all Paracelsus knew was the locust had inspired a great fear inside, heavy and helpless.

On the fifth night, Paracelsus lay awake, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. Both the heavy amulet and the terrified screams of Astaroth’s latest victim kept consciousness clawing at Paracelsus. The amulet felt so heavy that the lungs had a difficult time taking in air.

On the sixth night, Paracelsus couldn’t take it anymore.

Every night the amulet was missing, Astaroth killed an officer. Two soldiers had returned just before Astaroth killed his sixth officer, but they were unable to communicate at all. One had a stiff tail, permanently bent at an odd angle and mostly useless. The other had deep bruises on his neck, and wouldn’t be able to form words for awhile. The other commanders had returned empty handed from their search for Paranomia, all but two. And according to the writing of one of the silent demons in the dirt, a third soldier had been taken. Paracelsus decided not to take that news to Astaroth.

They all watched as the body of the sixth demon was flung from the throne. The body landed limply on the floor, lacking a head and coloring the tile with its insides. Paracelsus looked upon the corpse with a cold, unfeeling expression, while trying to swallow down guilt. Something had to change. And nothing would change unless Paracelsus took action. The amulet was too heavy to carry anymore.

At the start of the seventh day, Paracelsus got moving before the cathedral was filled with its usual noise.

The gothic church was eerily silent, but Paracelsus knew there wasn’t much time. Astaroth slept deeply, but would awaken before long. Throwing on a heavy cloak and replacing the Demonocratic uniform with a more nondescript ensemble, Paracelsus headed for the altar.

The sixth officer’s corpse still lay on the ground below the throne, where Astaroth’s massive form slept. Paracelsus stepped around it and approached silently, eyes flashing in the dim silvery light of the reflective glass. The weight of the amulet had spread to Paracelsus’ pounding head to the heart, making it beat abnormally fast. Short of breath, the demon rested on the nearest leg of the throne. The stand was so close, just a few more steps and the amulet would be back where it belonged.

Paracelsus struggled over to the back wall, the chest in sight. The amulet seemed drawn to it, yearning for it. Heaving, Paracelsus stumbled before the cavity in the stone and just barely stopped before falling. The amulet blazed, burning on Paracelsus’ chest. The demon quickly reached inside the shirt to take it out, preparing to take it off.

A faint light shined from the left, and Paracelsus turned with wide eyes.

The stained glass windows, from what Paracelsus knew, once told a tragic story of a man being put to death. But, the windows had been washed of color centuries ago, turning the glass into a cold grey. Yet Paracelsus squinted, the soft blue light illuminating the seventh window. For the first time, Paracelsus could distinguish some of the figures, and could just make out a man with a cross.

“No…” Paracelsus whispered, blinking and standing straight. In his sleep, Astaroth growled lowly, and shifted just slightly. But Paracelsus paid him no mind and instead began walking towards the light.

The broken pieces of glass were meaningless without their color. For years, Paracelsus had never been able to make any sense of the shattered shapes, for any ancient tale had eluded their kind. But with just a little bit of light. Paracelsus could see the weight the man carried, and briefly felt that same weight from the amulet.

Carefully touching the amulet, Paracelsus turned to look upon Astaroth again. “I cannot allow the amulet to remain with you.” the soft whisper echoed around the altar. “Too much power lies with it. This is my cross, I understand now.” by the time Paracelsus looked back to the window, the light had vanished.

Looking upon Astaroth, curled up in his throne, Paracelsus’ expression slowly fell into a scowl. “You know not what you do.” The light glinted off of the amber amulet around Paracelsus’ neck, right up to the throne.

And Astaroth opened his eyes.

O~o~O

“How exactly does one become a duke in Hell?” Arthur frowned, reaching up to yank on a dead tree for its branches. The whole tree groaned in protest, but broke easily. The demons watched the entire thing crumble to the ground, but then quickly started gathering the pieces.

Antonio shrugged with a good-natured smile. “Why, you want to be one?” a few of the demons laughed. “I believe it’s more of a self proclaimed position than anything else. Demons don’t have a hierarchy like the angels do, just Satan. And then whoever else is frightening enough to earn a following.” he kicked at the stump, trying to uproot it.

Nudging Arthur’s side, Alfred grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “Sounds like someone I know.”

The others nodded in amused agreement while Arthur suddenly lowered his head to look at all of them darkly, before suddenly bursting into evil laughter. “Behold!” he declared in a deep, malicious voice. “I am the tree king!”

He made a show of throwing down all of his branches and then flew to the stump of the tree to stand on top of it with an exaggerated pose. “Bow down to me, you sluggish swine! Or I’ll eat all of your toes!” while the other demons fell into a fit of laughter, Arthur turned and kicked the stump in a silly display of power, only to actually take it out of the ground.

They all fell quiet and looked at the stump, and Arthur was surprised with himself for a moment. Then, Alfred started laughing, and the rest followed suit.

Once they all calmed down, they gathered their branches and began flying back to the caves, low to the ground. There wasn’t a lot of wood to work with, but Arthur reckoned he’d be able to build a fire with the little they had. Plus, the moss within the cave could contribute as well. That way, they would be able to cook their food. “So whoever else is frightening enough, eh? Who else is there, besides Astaroth?”

Antonio opened his mouth to speak, but Ivan beat him to it. “There are three demons. Astaroth is the least powerful of the three.” he explained. “Satan is obviously the most powerful, but he hasn’t acted for years outside of the ninth circle.”

Arthur frowned curiously. “Who’s the third?”

The demons hesitated, but then Ludwig spoke up. “He is called Apollyon. But he was sealed away centuries ago by an act of God during The Flame. His army of locusts devastated the angels with their endless, mindless swarms.” he explained carefully, the words coming out almost softly. Arthur didn’t understand Ludwig’s uncharacteristic reluctance. “The locusts were even harmful to the demons; they consumed whatever was in their path. It was in everyone’s best interest that Apollyon be imprisoned.”

“So he’s still alive?” Arthur asked. The others nodded.

“Our understanding was that Apollyon was punished by reducing his soul to a locust, and then trapping that locust in an eternal prison that he could never escape from. He’s alive, but he’s not going anywhere.” Ludwig sighed heavily.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, unsure of what to think of Ludwig’s apparent discomfort. Looking at everyone’s faces, they all seemed somewhat distraught. As suspicious as he was, he decided not to ask.

It started to rain. Even when they returned to the caves and began cooking food, the group was quiet. All of the demons seemed to be lost in thought, as if something troubling was on their minds. Arthur couldn’t begin to fathom what.

He looked between all of them as he ate, watching them chew slowly as they stared at nothing. He appeared to be the only one conscious of reality. Normally, he would be the last one to finish eating, but this time he was the first by far. Even Alfred had hardly touched his food. As the silence dragged on, Arthur began to shift awkwardly. The fire struggled against the light rain.

“What’s the matter with you lot?” he finally asked. “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The ones nearest to him almost jolted, and one demon dropped his food. The others seemed to blink back to the present, having been lost in some distant time. “Apollyon is like a ghost.” Ivan murmured. “The legends said he would break free during a blood moon in the warm season. Even though the warm season is ending, the moon is red.” he gestured up in the sky, where they could all see a vague orange spot in the clouds.

Arthur scoffed. “What, so you’re afraid of the locust man? He’s going to come eat all of us? Please.” he chuckled a little, rolling his eyes. “You said it yourself! He’s locked away forever in what I’m sure is a great prison. He won’t-” he got cut off by a loud buzzing, only to see a bug fly right through the fire and land on his knee.

Alfred yelped and fell right off the rock he was sitting on, scrambling back. “It’s him! That’s the locust!” the others seemed to panic as well, taking several steps back from Arthur. In a momentary frenzy, everyone gave the locust a wide space, as if anticipating an attack. Meanwhile, Arthur just sighed, looking at the army as they all backed away out of fear.

“It’s a bug. Honestly. It’s hardly a threat.” Arthur sighed, reaching to grab the bug. In dreadful silence, the army watched as he took the bug and merely tossed it into the smoldering fire.

Everyone else watched, stunned, as the locust instantly perished. It shriveled in the heat and was consumed by a small, sputtering flame. It quickly became nothing more than ash, crackling like the wood and displaced by the rain. Arthur looked on indifferently.

He had never seen an insect in hell, nor had he heard of locusts being worthy of fear. Perhaps Apollyon was such an old legend that his really was a ghost story? If he really had fought in The Flame, then he must have wreaked legendary havoc. The swarms, Ludwig had said, were what made the locusts so deadly. Arthur knew of their tendency to cause heavy damage to crops on earth, but in war? The concept seemed almost silly. But then again, he definitely wouldn’t want to be caught in a swarm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash. He turned his head up, and many demons followed his gaze to the vague blue glow along the horizon. It cut through the clouds unlike any other light in hell, brilliant and bright even from so far away. Arthur stood up abruptly.

“What is that? Arthur? What’s going on?” some of the demons fell into step behind him as he began marching to the mouth of the cave to get a clearer view. “What is that light?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur brooded, glaring ahead at the now fading light. “But we’re going to find out. Get ready to fly.”

O~o~O

As they approached, flying as fast as the collective group could through the rain and keeping low to the ground, the light gradually went out. But Arthur had his eyes fixed on the direction it came from. He pressed on, eager to see what it could have been. He’d never seen it before, but it wasn’t unlike angel’s magic. Perhaps some Messengers had come down to attack the Demonocracy again, or at least were preparing to.

“Why are we going toward it?” Yao demanded, swiping rain from his face. “This is very unwise. We would be safer back at the cave.”

“If we stay away from it, we won’t know what’s going on.” Arthur brushed him off, annoyed and distracted.

Yao backed off with a huff, seeing he wouldn’t be able to argue. But Antonio shyly flew up next to Arthur, looking worried. He seemed off balanced flying in the rain. “Ah, Arthur, I don’t like this. We are headed right for Astaroth’s cathedral. We don’t stand a chance.” he fiddled with his uniform, not quite looking up at Arthur.

Arthur’s gaze slid to Antonio’s with an sly smirk. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Right, right, but uh…” Antonio glanced around, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I mean, I’ve seen what Astaroth can do, he’s very powerful! I’m just not sure if even you could, you know, defeat him.”

Arthur sighed, and shook his head. He noticed Alfred on his other side, watching him with a heavy stare, but he ignored it. “Look, Antonio, we’ll be fine.” he assured. “I don’t think we’ll even make it to the cathedral; look,” he pointed just ahead over a hill, where they could just spot a figure tumbling on through the rain into the mud. They suddenly went very still.

Signaling the army to fan out and stay hidden, he chose Antonio, Alfred, Ivan, Ludwig, and Basch to follow him towards the figure. They picked up the pace, straining to see through the rain as they drove on. The wind picked up, howling through the dark plains and through them. Arthur led them right to the bottom of the hill, where they looked down upon the figure laying in the mud. Landing a good distance away, he told the others to stay back with just a gesture, and then slowly approached the demon.

He stood there for a moment, watching the muddied figure struggle. They didn’t appear to notice him as they wrenched their arm out from underneath themselves and attempted to crawl forward. Only then did they look up, blinking rain out of their eyes, at Paranomia.

“You…” the demon squinted, seeming awestruck. They took a shuddering breath and managed to pull their other arm out of the mud, trying to sit up. But even with all the mud, Arthur could see the demon shaking, nursing their leg and shielding part of their arm. It didn’t look like they would be able to get up without help.

Arthur stepped closer, bending down into a squat so the demon could see him better. “Who are you?” he asked, noticing the lack of a uniform. They looked pitiful lying there, with mud spotting their face in wet smears. “Why are you out here?”

The demon coughed, hard enough for their whole body to shudder. “That’s none of your concern,” the demon spat, struggling to stay focused on Arthur. Their hazy glare met Arthur’s eyes just briefly, before looking over his shoulder at the demons behind him. Realizing they were greatly outnumbered, the demon let out a heavy breath and forced themselves to look back at Arthur.

Antonio came up from Arthur’s left, looking down on the demon with a strange face. “I know who you are.” he murmured. “You’re Paracelsus, Astaroth’s right hand man.”

Looking back to the demon with a satisfied smirk, Arthur raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Paracelsus confirmed this with a hard stare up at Antonio, before lowering his head again. The way he was trembling, Arthur guessed he was hurt too badly to hold his head up for very long. “What do you want?” he finally got out with gritted teeth, straining to look at Arthur.

Arthur sighed and shrugged. “I want to know what you’re doing here. If you’re Astaroth’s supposed right hand man, then why aren’t you with him? What reason do you have to be so far away?” Next to him, Antonio crossed his arms, looking suspiciously down to Paracelsus. Arthur wondered what sort of power made so many coincidences line up right before him.

With another wracking cough, Paracelsus huffed, struggling to fill his lungs. “I have a new purpose. For it, I had to defect. Just like you, Paranomia.” he managed a small smirk.

Although he didn’t show it, the fact that Paracelsus knew who he was surprised him. This demon must know more than he let on. “Oh? And what is this purpose?” he sneered, signaling for the others to come closer. “Get him up.”

A couple of demons remained behind Arthur while the others stood around on watch. Paracelsus let out a pained groan when Alfred and Ludwig yanked him to his feet. “I stole something,” he gasped, blinking with red-rimmed eyes through the rain. “Astaroth is going to kill me. I have to go.”

Judging by Antonio’s expression, Paracelsus must have done something very unlike himself, and something very much out of line. This demon was indeed very interesting. “Such a poor display to your leader,” Arthur crooned, teasing him. “What happened to your loyalty to Astaroth?” he put his hands on his hips like he was scolding a child.

And Paracelsus reacted accordingly. “Astaroth is a fool!” he spat, his expression contorted with unspoken rage. His face showed years of enduring whatever Astaroth had put him through, years of watching anger left unchecked. Arthur uncomfortably met Alfred’s cold gaze as he recognized that desperate look. “He is irresponsible, and his methods would be the end of us all! I had to steal it from him, or he would have destroyed everything!”

Arthur didn’t like where he was going. “Steal what?” he prompted, suddenly realizing how serious Paracelsus was being. He frowned, concerned about what exactly the gravity of the situation was.

With a shaky sigh, Paracelsus pulled his uninjured hand from Alfred and reached into his shirt. Slowly, with a grimace, he pulled out an amber amulet hanging around his neck. Preserved in the amber, Arthur noticed with a deep breath, was a locust.

The other demons backed away a step, while Arthur suddenly felt dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He put it together in his head with a horrible feeling. “Apollyon’s prison,” he murmured, reaching to touch it. Paracelsus warily allowed him to.

“You see why I have to run,” he said insistently. “Astaroth is looking for this, and he won’t stop until he finds it. It’s up to me to get it as far away as I can, as it’s my burden to-” as soon as Arthur touched the amulet, he jolted and yelled out.

An image filled his head, a landscape bathed in red. It was an image of demons, but he realized they had become nothing more than skeletons, still standing by some cruel measure taken by fate. They swayed in the breeze like grass, staying intact even as their arms swung back and forth. The locusts, he realized, had stripped them to the bone, killing them in a horribly painful instant. The swarms consumed whatever they could, and left no sign that life ever existed outside their dry bones. Arthur felt a deep remorse for the first time in a very long time, the inevitability of their death almost painful. He wondered what sort of fear the demons had felt, if they had time to feel it at all. Did they run? Did they cry?

Arthur backed up several steps, the image having only lasted just a moment. But in that moment was an eternity for him, like a dream right before waking. He gasped for breath, feeling like he’d held it, or somehow forgot how to breathe. Trying to gather his bearings, Arthur looked around him at his army for some semblance of familiarity, something to ground him. The way Paracelsus and the other demons around him stared, he had a feeling his reaction was to something only he saw. But the look Paracelsus gave him was especially disturbing. Arthur quickly tried to hide his alarm, but the image had thoroughly chilled him.

“You’re...not a demon.” Paracelsus said slowly.

Arthur quickly shook his head, trying to get the image out of his mind. “Look, we’ll help you get away from Astaroth. You’re absolutely correct, that amulet harbors too much power to be left with him. You don’t have to run, we’ll fight for you.” he got out quickly, eager to drop the subject. The amulet had evoked such a powerful, oppressive feeling in him, that he was conflicted in trying to escape it, or protecting the demons around him from the fate he saw. Would they be better prepared if they knew its potential, or would their ignorance comfort them enough so they could sleep at night?

He slowly turned, aware of Paracelsus’ suspicious look, but then gestured to the army to head back to the caves. The rain had eased up, so it was easier to fly, but Arthur couldn’t focus on anything but what the amulet had shown him.

“Arthur, are you sure this is a good idea?” Alfred asked him quietly.

Arthur didn’t answer him.

O~o~O

“Do you know what it feels like to know you’re going to die? To know that there is absolutely nothing you can do about it? Observing death should never be easy, but you should come to expect it at some point. You look at them lying there, the life leaving their eyes as they blink up at you. Your heart goes out to them, doesn’t it? Your heart just swells with empathy, so much that it could just burst. And it hurts. In that moment, you feel their weakness, and their fear. You think, it’s not fair, they haven’t had enough time. They’re not finished yet. You look at them, pitifully taking their final breaths, and you can’t bring yourself to walk away. You’ve brought a responsibility upon yourself to see them pass peacefully, with some company. So you sit there, cradling them until they’re gone, so that for at least that moment, they can feel loved one last time.”

O~o~O

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 readers!! I know this is a crazy format change, but I think it works really well for how this story is structured. This is still The Messenger, but I've organized it based on the different arcs in the series. If you're confused, I'll be happy to explain it further, but I'm happy to say we're almost done with this arc! Alfred's origin chapters and the Christmas chapters can now be found in seperate arcs now too! Alsp I've saved your comments that were there, sorry that I had to delete all of that :( But I have them on a document so I can look back any time!
> 
> Hey y'all! Kind of a strange chapter I guess, new character to add to the group! Paracelsus is kinda odd I like to think, and the song for this chapter is actually about him. Robot Boy is by Linkin Park, which actually by the way, today is the anniversary of Chester Bennington's death. Which is sorta kinda why I included that last bit, but I wrote that for a different reason.
> 
> So I didn't include any lyrics this time because they couldn't have really fit, but the general basis of the song would be in Arthur's point of view. Basically, he's speaking to Paracelsus, pitying him, seeing how he's given up fighting because no one else will fight for him. My favorite line is "Someday, the weight of the world will give you the strength to go," and go as in do whatever you dreamed of or go on and be free or something. It's up for debate XD Anyway, it's a fantastic song with great vocals and a lovely message. Very encouraging if you're feeling down! We can see Arthur changing just a tad bit towards the end here ;) Next chapter will be great, I can't wait to show y'all!
> 
> Uhh, as usual, I don't own anything? And the cover image is from Makoyana! She's great, please check her art out haha
> 
> What else do I usually do? I don't even remember haha, hope you liked it! Thanks for reading :D
> 
> -Madz


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